I soooo did not want to write this post today. And I’ve soooo been avoiding my own blog.

Not a good sign.

I’ve been writing this blog for two years now. Here’s the post I wrote on Mother’s Day two years ago. Read it. It’s cute.

Here’s the post I wrote last year. Read it. Especially if you’re feeling sorry for yourself or wishing your husband had gotten you what you really wanted for Mother’s Day this year. This post will help you be less of a selfish jerk.

I’m not sure why I’m avoiding Here in Idaho. I think it’s because I don’t have any news to report about Leigh’s little girl. And that I feel like this blog is more about frivolity and fun and silliness (see May 2007 post titles) and less about sadness and first Mother’s Days without moms and sick two year olds and all the not-silly stuff that’s been going on lately.

So I wonder…is it time? Is it time to start something new or take a sabbatical from blogging? My friend Riley did it. She quit to finish her novel, then came back when she was ready. I think I need a break from the self-imposed pressure to be silly and fun like I want Here in Idaho to be. And I need to pour myself into The Palace Sweeper and finishing the school year and enjoying summer and all the little life-improvement projects we’ve got going on at the Harrison household.

So here’s what I’m going to do, in list format:

1. I’m not going to write for a while. I don’t know how long.
2. I will, for my family and friends and all those still reading a blog that will become as boring as a dead rock, post pictures of the family. (FIRST PIANO RECITAL ON THURSDAY, Y’ALL!)
3. That’s it. We’ll see how it goes.

I’m still writing for Cracked. A new article on Scientology should come up soon. I’ll link to it so you can read it before it gets shut down and/or I get assassinated by Tom Cruise himself. Other than that, I don’t know. I think I’ll give myself a month. Or two. What I know is that I don’t want to write a mediocre blog. I don’t want to be a diarist, which is definitely a fun word to write because it sounds like diarrheaist, which is also something I don’t want to be.

So I need to focus on the things I do want to be. A writer. A good mama. A skinny girl who looks cute in short tailored shorts. And when I get those things down, I’ll come back.

And, most likely, even if I fail at all of the above, I’ll still come back. How else will I get the attention I so desperately require from strangers? Not by being a high-class hooker, I can tell you that. (Truck stop hooker is more like it.)