Something occurred to me the other day. It was a moment when something happened and my first thought was - Oh, I'll have to blog that! Because yes, I'm turning into THAT kind of freak. But anyway. I finally realized that I have been blogging over here a lot more recently than I have been blogging over in the kids' blog. When I first started a diary for the kids, I was so excited and had SO many things to write about that I didn't know where to start. I felt like I was there all the time. Then I started this little blog of mine so I had a place to write down some things that I wouldn't necessarily want to share with the kids.
At first, I thought this wasn't going to go so well and I was starting to worry that I really had become the mom who had nothing else interesting to talk about besides her kids. Okay, so maybe interesting is a stretch, but lately, I'm finding it so much easier to hang out over here and 'chat'. It's harder to talk to the kids, you know?
Maybe it's because I'm amongst friends here. I know you - well, I think I know all of you. I suppose it's possible there are some lurkers out there. But it's fairly unlikely. The lurker I just learned about (Hi, Brian! No, girls, not THAT Brian.) doesn't really count as a lurker - he's a friend, too. So when I'm here, I'm chatting about life and stuff and it's comfortable. When I'm talking to the kids over in their world, there's a little more pressure. I've realized that, while I'm not lying to them, I am trying to put a little better spin on some of the stuff going on, even when I'm talking about hellacious bedtimes and torrential tantrums. I don't really know when or even if they will read what I have over there, so it's hard to gauge what age group I'm talking to. Maybe I should be brutally honest and really tell it like it is. But I gotta tell you, if I wrote only the stark and nasty truth, there are days when they would think I regretted ever having them. And I really don't - I promise! You know, not every day. But oh, sometimes, I dream of the days when coming home from work meant dinner of whatever we wanted - or out to eat on a whim. Or even better, maybe a movie. ON A WEEKNIGHT. And without any planning ahead WHATSOEVER. Oh, and sex. Because we weren't tired. Ever. Those were good times.
These are good times, too, they are just very different times. Days are full of things like daycare, homework, Disney channel, baseball, screaming, macaroni, peeing the bed, and on and on. Oh, good times, my friends. Good times.