So here's the thing...

(this picture has nothing to do with anything, it's just a cute picture)

I am sitting in my "nursing chair" with the obligatory boppy pillow (how did women breastfeed before boppy? I scoffed at them while I was pregnant with Ragnarson the Elder and after about two days of building unstable piles of pillows I demanded that Manimal go forth and aquire "one of those nursing pillow things that I said were so stupid"). Ragnarbaby is propped up on one arm, spitting up all over my shirt sleeve repeatedly (I'll wait until he's empty and change, no point in washing TWO shirts when I could just let him soil this one more throughly). Ragnarson the Elder is working on spreading his toys throughout the house even more throughly, pausing now and then to repeatedly punch the buttons on the noisy toys. This makes a sort of crash-crash-rattle-BLAST OFF-BLAST OFF-crash-thunk-rattle-HEYAH! WATCHA-crash white noise which is basically the background music of my life. He likes to mix it up a bit by throwing spectacular tempertantrums every 20 minutes or so.

This is primarily what I do all day. It does not make particularly engaging blog-fodder.

I thought about photographing Ragnarbaby's spit-up blobs and crafting a funny post about divining the future through baby vomit...but realized that unless you spend all day covered in it, you might find looking at photos of baby vomit...well, yucky.

I thought about posting all of the stuff that Ragnarson says to me on a daily basis, but realized that a long list of basically boring quotes was probably only amusing to me, and possibly Ragnarson's Grandparents.

I thought about pretending that I'm still an artist and posting pictures of the new studio, but then realized that a picture of a pile of still-packed boxes was about as interesting as...see? I can't think of something that it's less interesting than.

I could catalog my small victories: "Left the house this morning!" "Made coffee before the baby started screaming." "Got the dishwasher unloaded within 24 hours" but realized that after a few of those my life would start to sound REALLY pathetic.

I'm not unhappy to be staying home with my kids...in fact I feel tremendously blessed. The "fun" parts of parenting, get pretty repetative and schmultzy after a few retellings though, all those little moments staring at your kids...the, holy crap, HUMAN BEINGS, that you MADE with your own body (and how crazy is that?), and the little miracles as they figure out all the skills that will make them into grown-ups one day...which I still don't believe by the way. And blogging about the unfun, and therefore potentially funny parts of parenting, the messes, the screaming, the unending bodily fluids, just sounds so whiny after awhile.

So what's a mother of two supposed to do with this little corner of cyberspace that she's carved out for herself? I have no idea. I'll still try to figure it out, of course, but the fact is that I write this thing for both of us, for me, and for you. What are you looking for when you stop by the old "DP?" Inspiration? Instruction? Entertainment? What level of baby vomit can you stomach? How many times can I use the word "miracle" before you permanently remove me from your bloglines feed? More knitting? More cute baby pictures? Help me figure this out, oh you, the audience.

Ragnar...has a sleeping baby on her lap. AWwwww.