Don’t Put That In Your Blog

She sat on the grassy field waiting for the end of sports practice to drive everyone home. In front of her an 8 year old practiced his handstands, his shirt falling to his chin as his legs lifted towards the sky. “Mum! Watch me!” he reminded her as he made upside down eye contact.

“I’m watching” she sang back towards him.

“Did you see the cartwheel I did?” he asked as his feet touched the ground.

“Yep!” she lied.

“You know what you could do!” he said excitedly.

“What?” she smiled at his excitement.

“You could video me doing a cartwheel and a handstand and put it on your blog!””

“I could” she grinned.

All four of her children had ideas on what should go on the blog. The baseball tournament, the grade three school play, the ten minute recorder performance, and the recital of jingle bells on the clarinet. In their minds these were sure to be “hits” in the world of expat blogging.

“I think Frere Jacques on the clarinet could go viral” her second child suggested.

What else would she blog about? Her children were her world, her everything. What else would be going on in her mind other than them.

“Don’t you dare put this on your blog!” a friend had demanded after telling a story about their brother’s girlfriend’s parents upgrading their hot water system.

It was an easy promise to keep.

“Watch out! She’ll put that on the blog!” a woman had shrieked when her husband told a story about his day on the golf course.

“What do you do?” she’d been asked while waiting at the doctors surgery.

“I’m a freelance writer, I have a small business and four children, I also have a blog.”

“Will you blog about this?”

She looked around the waiting room, made eye contact with the man who was spitting into his handkerchief, and turned back to her new acquaintance “I can’t imagine so.”

Later as she sat at her keyboard thinking about articles she’d read, houses that were once lived in, and countries that were feeling further and further away with each year – it came to her.

She would begin a niche blog, something new, something relevant. She pulled out the vegetable steamer, filled it with water, and thought of Gwyneth Paltrow. Her latest raw food craze obviously rendering her kitchen appliances useless – Gwyneth had begun steaming her vagina. She wondered if she could find something to do with the crockpot or the juicer? Perhaps she could she marinate her nipples in the butter crock? Surely there were more uses for the Thermomix. Maybe the nutri-bullet held the answers.

She giggled as she crouched over the vegetable steamer – don’t put that in your blog.

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