By Heather O.
The Segullah retreat was this weekend. Oh my, I don’t think there is another gathering quite like this in the universe, and I’m pretty sure that there is no cooler group of women on the planet. We talked too much, ate too much, and slept too little, and I for one am all the better for it.
But a friend asked me, “What’s going on with Mormon Mommy Wars?”
I don’t have a good answer for that. Most of the original posters have moved on. And all of us have grown older–is it possible to outgrow a blog? The outlet that this blog provided in many ways has been replaced by other social media, and frankly, the kinds of things I needed from doing this, I don’t need anymore. I’m not isolated at home, nursing a newborn. My son is 10, and entering a time in his life where a blog post sent out into cyberspace can’t answer the questions I have about raising him, and his privacy needs are higher, inasmuch as many of his difficulties involve people who can access this blog. It’s one thing to say, “How do I stop my kid from pooping on the carpet?” It’s quite another (as I found out) to blog about how to handle difficulties in the classroom, and social walls he is running up against from time to time. And my daughter enters kindergarten this year, which means that she’s is very much in the same boat.
Which means that I can still blog about ME, but I, too, am facing a transition in my life. No children at home during the day means that I need to take stock of how I want to spend my time during this new chapter. I had one friend say, “Oh, you’ll find ways to spend your time. Work out, shower, go grocery shopping, clean the house, throw in laundry, and before you know it, it’s time to get the kids!” I can appreciate how you can make your days go by that way, and I also am not trying to say that getting through the day that way isn’t perfectly fine, but it’s not what I want to do. I also know me–I’d TELL myself I was going to get up and do the laundry and clean my house and work out, but mostly I’d probably go back to bed, sleep til noon, then fiddlefart/blog/facebook (they have this new game called SongPop, which is super addicting) until I had lost all track of time and scramble to make sure that my kids don’t see me in my pajamas when they get off the bus, and the laundry would still not be done.
No. I have plans. Big plans. Okay, maybe actually kinda medium, maybe baby sized plans, but they are there. They are percolating in the back of my medium sized head. I don’t know where they’ll go, but I like thinking about them. And every single one of them is an excellent excuse for not doing laundry.
So if you are reading this, that means that you probably have MMW on your google reader, which means this popped up and you went, “No WAY, does MMW still exist?” and you came here out of sheer curiosity to make sure we haven’t corpsified ourselves. For that, I thank you. Our readers have meant a lot to us, and MMW has provided me with experiences and relationships that I couldn’t have possibly imagined when The Wiz and I started it lo those many years ago.
(I think it’s been about 8.)
(That’s insane. Who blogs for 8 years?)
(No wonder I have nothing else to say.)
I confess that I have another motive for writing today, beyond just saying “Hi, we’re only mostly dead”. My dear friend Rick Hoyt has a new book coming out, the first one written in his words. There are other books about Rick out there, including Devoted: The Story of a Father’s Love for His Son, which is told from Rick’s father’s point of view, and It’s Only a Mountain, which is their story told by a third party. Those are good books (although I’ll confess to having only read “Devoted”), but this new one is told by Rick himself, a process that I can only imagine was painstakingly slow. But I can’t wait to read the whole thing. And Rick also asked me to include an essay about my experience working for him, along with other essays from people who been associated with Rick over the years, so it will be a nice balance of Rick’s words, and the words from people who love him.
Bottom line, BUY IT. It’s called “One Letter At a Time”, and it’s available for pre-order here. Hopefully there won’t be too many times when somebody mentions when I broke Rick’s nose. Dick mentions it in his book, and another essay mentions it too. Sheesh people, get over it. Like I said before, it’s not like Rick’s nose was perfect to begin with.
(I hope you know that’s sarcasm. Breaking my friend’s nose and watching him hurt the way he did ranks as one of the most horrible moments of my life. FYI.)
And please stick around a little longer to see where MMW goes. It might be nowhere, it might be someplace exciting. I haven’t decided yet, but like I said, I have plans. Baby ones, but as we’ve learned, babies can get pretty freakin’ big.