I Don’t Have Anything to Write About Right Now

Lately, I’ve been slacking on the blog.

I’ve opened my computer more than once with the intention of writing something, only to stare at the screen and think, “I have absolutely no idea what to say.”

I kept thinking I needed to come up with a topic. I needed something interesting to talk about. I needed some big thought or realization that would make a good blog post.

The truth is, I just haven’t had much of a muse lately.

Life has been full, though. Work started back up. The boys are getting settled into another school year. There are lunches to pack, clothes to find, dinners to figure out, laundry that somehow never ends, and approximately one million little things that need my attention every day.

Somewhere in all of that, I started feeling like I didn’t have anything worth writing about.

I think I’ve been forgetting what I actually want this blog to be.

My life is not made up of big moments all the time. Most of it is regular Tuesday nights, getting everyone where they need to be, trying to keep the house somewhat under control, answering questions from four boys at once, laughing at something completely ridiculous, and finally sitting down at the end of the day wondering where the hours went.

That is my life.

There are seasons when I have a million things I want to write about. There are other seasons when I have to look a little closer at what is already happening around me.

Right now, I’m in one of those seasons.

I’m trying to find my rhythm again. Work takes a lot out of me. My boys are growing and changing faster than I can keep up with. I’m still figuring out how to make room for the things I love while also taking care of everything that needs me.

There is plenty here.

I just haven’t been looking at it that way.

I think that is something I need to remember, especially when I start comparing my life to people who always seem to have something exciting happening.

My ordinary days still count.

The messy house counts. The rushed mornings count. The random conversations in the car count. The bedtime stories count. The nights when I finally get to sit down and watch Friends on the couch count too.

These are the days I’m living right now.

I don’t want to overlook them just because they don’t make for an exciting Instagram caption or a perfectly planned blog post.

I don’t need a big story to tell.

I’m living the story right now.