As you may have noticed, the internet is chock-full of captivating, Pinterest-worthy blogs, written by people who have mastered the arts of cooking, organizing, DIY, and parenting. So, why exactly, do I, someone who is barely a Jack of any trades, let alone a master, feel the need to start a blog?
Well, the truth is, I read these blogs. I follow these tutorials. I cook these recipes. I pin these educational games and beautiful crafts. And I feel…well, kind of inadequate. Not in a melodramatic “woe is me; I don’t measure up; my life isn’t worth living” fashion, but in the sense that I feel like these blogs simply weren’t written for people like me. They weren’t written for moms who have coffee and snot stains on the yoga pants that they’ve worn for two straight days or people who count grilled cheese as a home-cooked meal or folks who don’t happen to have mod podge or vanilla extract on hand. They were written for people who sort of have their shit together…and I just happen to not be one of those people.
“I am a hot mess.
Who are you?
Are you a hot mess, too?”
-me, with some inspo from my girl, Emily Dickinson