I’ll admit I’m experiencing a bit of discord trying to write “about me.” I have angst about being stereotyped, labeled, or put in a box. This is something I think about a lot and write a great deal about; and here I sit, trying to put myself in a neat little box. If you know me you’re reading this to see if the information “about me” is accurate. If you don’t know me you’re reading this to find out who I am, and if you want to invest your time reading this blog. I do the same thing! If I run across a blog that has an interesting title, such as Traveling with Kids, I might be interested until I read that the blog is about traveling with goats, knitting coats for goats, and taking goats on boats. Since I don’t have goats, I don’t knit, and I’m landlocked, I won’t need those nuggets of wisdom. Wow, this is easier than I thought. You already know so much “about me.” You know that I don’t want to be put in a box. Not with a goat. Not on a boat . . . If you thought this was a blog about maintaining your dirt road, then keep reading, because you obviously need more interesting things to read about.
A diary is a daily record, usually private, of a writer’s own experiences, observations, feelings, attitudes, etc. This diary is obviously not private and I don’t foresee being able to write daily. I’m not trying to be misleading it’s just that Dirt Road Diary sounds good; much better than Dirt Road Occasional Public Posts. True to the definition, this is a record of my own experiences, observations, feelings, attitudes, etc. I speak only for myself; I don’t speak for any group or organization.
Why Dirt Road Diary? I live out in the sticks, where the pavement ends. I spend a lot of time on dirt roads. In a typical day it’s not until I get out on the road, either running or driving, that I can actually have a complete thought.
In a one hour run I can solve all the world’s problems. Here’s what would happen if I tried to spend an hour in my house thinking thoughts I wanted to think and trying to solve the world’s problems. Have you ever read Laura Numeroff’s wonderful book, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie? Here’s my version: If You Give a Mom a Minute. If you give a mom a minute to have a thought, she’ll notice the pair of dirty socks on the floor. She’ll picked them up and take them downstairs. When she’s downstairs, she’ll pass the washing machine and remember that the laundry needs to be moved along. Then, on her way back up the stairs, she’ll notice that the stairs need to be swept and she’ll go get the broom. She might get carried away and sweep every room in the house. Then, she’ll sit down and realize she needs something to drink. So she’ll get up to get a glass of water, and that’s when she’ll notice that she still has six lessons of Algebra to grade . . . When I run, I’m free from all of that! For me, running is about 2% fitness and 98% sanity. Driving isn’t as wonderfully liberating and solitary, but at least I have to sit still. There are times when I’d like to share the occasional epiphanies, reflections, lessons, mistakes, and experiences that are mine. Now I have a place to do that.
Here are some facts about me that I consider important enough to share.
- I believe wholeheartedly that there is a right and a wrong way to hang toilet paper. And load the dishwasher. And fold towels. And hang up coats. And . . . [treat people]
- The dictionary is my drug of choice. [communication is important and words matter]
- I’d rather have a bag of Tostitos than a box of chocolates. [stereotypes are misleading and hurtful]
- I don’t like writing about myself in the third person. By this, Kian means she thinks when someone refers to himself or herself as if he or she was someone else it is a symptom of a disorder she studied in college. [be yourself]
- Sometimes I flip my turn signal on way too soon. Sometimes I forget to flip my turn signal at all. [sometimes I’m conflicted]
- I’m pretty easy going, unless you hurt my family or me. If you hurt me, you will suffer. It will probably be years later. It will definitely be ugly. [some coping mechanisms from childhood still linger. I never said I had it all figured out.]
- I’m not a Biblical scholar [don’t have to be an expert to love God and have faith that will move mountains]
- I’ve been a homeschool mom since I gave birth to my first child. [educating children doesn’t begin at age 5 and the job doesn’t always belong to someone else]
- I’m not a foreign policy or domestic affairs guru. [just caring about the world and the people in it is a good start]
- I was born, and spent my formative years, in Iran. [loving your homeland and loving the United States of America is not mutually exclusive]
- I’m not the mother-of-the-year, wife-of-the-year, or person-of-the-year. Mostly, I muddle through. [amazing grace]
I’ve been told my perspective is important and valuable. I’ve also been told my perspective is silly and brainless. I would be lying if I said I am at a point where I don’t care what you think and I’m going to blog my opinions anyway. I want very much for you to like and respect me. I think I am finally at a point where I believe it’s okay to have a point of view that is my own and it’s okay to share that, even if you disagree with me. I’ve never run across a person, book, or blog that I identify with completely. I’m sure I’ll write about things you can identify with and things you can’t identify with. Likewise, you may agree with me and you may not agree with me. My hope is that you will respect my point of view (and still like me), even if you disagree with me, and I will do the same for you.