I'm not sitting here with a cape on. Or my big undies over the top of my outfit. Nor do I have any super powers. I'm not saving lives. I'm only saving my sanity. And preserving my memories. That's what blogging is to me. Oh and it's given me a community of other mamas and general all-round ace chicks to communicate with. To high five. To chew the fat. To bounce ideas. And to virtually hang out with.
But I'm not doing anything anyone hasn't done before. I'm parenting. I'm working part-time. I'm wifeing. I'm trying to make ends meet (and those ends seem to move further and further away monthly). I'm juggling and dreaming, hoping, praying, cleaning, cooking, washing, talking, watching, stitching, writing, reading, sleeping, snoozing, cuddling, kissing, sweeping, watering, laughing, smiling, showering, weeing & pooping, walking, driving, looking, sniffing, colouring, avoiding, chasing, weeding, dusting, vacuuming, emailing, SMSing - oh man, I could go on, but you've probably already fallen asleep. WAKE UP!
I'm a woman. Not a superhero. I have no super powers. If I did, I'd give nasty people an electric shock each time they were nasty. BZZZZzzzZZZ!
So why are bloggers seen as the new superhero? Are bloggers the new black?