No, I really do. I am sorry if you love them. I should probably say I also never really went through the “I love dolphins” phase. I was kind of a dorky Huey Lewis into George Thoroughgood, David Addison into Arnie Becker into, hula hoop into track shoes kind of dork. All the way through I hated cats and they hated me back.
Ask my sister.
Anyway, the cat today is the proverbial cat in the bag, or out of the bag as it were. I have officially lost track of who reads this blogs, who knows this blog exists and who could use this blog to trip me up publicly. Not that I’d ever say anything that isn’t true, but perhaps I’ve had private battles here that allowed me to play nice, act unhurt or just generally move on in public.
I have no bones to pick to prompt this, just the realization that for the past week or so it’s been my boobs here, specifically me talking about them. One could say it was to demonstrate for my recent presentation that one should be engaging, racing or controversial in order to gain/retain/whatever an audience. The truth is I’ve always done better when being true to myself and my life.
An old colleague that I have recently friended on Facebook posted an entry that said something to the effect of:
Hey, parents- MOTHERS OR DADS, could someone please post about screaming at your kids? Share some audio, maybe publish the note from school saying your kids has not potential. Please?!”
I totally get what he’s going for with this. I left a comment about how in those moments we drop the camera. But seriously, I suppose some people may enjoy reading that and others may enjoy writing about their boobs and sex life all the time. I prefer writing the things that I would like to remember.
My memory is abysmal at best. I need these morsels to lead me back to dried clovers, to snoring rapture and to the days of dolls and romance.
I suppose I could get wrapped up in people that don’t want to read it, or too worried about the people that do, I think instead I’ll keep my eye on the ball and worry about hitting itβ thwack. The feeling of the words hitting the screen just right, bits of my heart and mind winking back at me, feels just like a great hit. When it resonates with others, all the better.
Here’s to great shirts, hot dads and golden moments with our kids-not necessarily in that order, or, maybe if the shirt is great enough, in exactly that order π
meow?
keep hitting it. you seem to get that satisfying "crack" on the ball 10 times out of 10, momma.
I look through rose colored glasses on my blog 99% of the time. Why the heck would I want to remember the crappy, pull my hair out, count to 10 moments of my life? I love reading your momma sap, and you remind me to have some for myself every once in a while. xoxo
I try to focus more on the good times too. I do sometimes talk about the not-so-great times too though. I guess I write what I need to at a particular time.
I have a cat that I "inherited" from my college roommate. I don't particularly like cats in general, but I do like mine.
Please don't stop sharing these pretty glimpses into your life and your loves.
You remind me to see the beauty in the chaos.
Okay, but what's all that got to do with cats?
I adore your blog and everything you write. Please don't change π
Oh Amanda, don't go changin'
to try to please me.
Sorry but someone had to say it.
hey! I hate cats too. I also kind of dislike dogs. It's mostly because I'm allergic to both but also because dogs think it's fine to just up and smell anyone's butt and that is just rude.
My IRL friends tease me that my blog is sort of Polyanna (because they have seen me reduced to a puddle of tears and frustration at the hands of a crafty toddler). Like Crystal, I mostly want to just remember the good stuff.
Write on.
I like cats fine. I have a couple. Crazy cat ladies make me back sloowwwlly out of the room, though.
TONS of people I know in real life read my blog. My feelings, honestly, are "meh." Don't care.
Amanda, I so enjoy your writing… Keep up with just what you are doing- thwack.
I'm not sure I'd like to hear audio of people's bad parenting moments. I already have mine in my head.
Ditto to what Mrs. Chicken said.
Arnie Becker?
That is it, sister, we are two souls that crossed in the night.
And sometime, I'm gonna meet you during the day.
You can't make everyone happy, so it's best to do what makes you happy.
I personally love your blog! Found it linked from Tumble Dry and now I read both. Don't change a thing. Unless you want to! π
You can take solace in this list…Reasons why sharks are better than cats
http://www.thesharkguys.com/2009/09/23/top-20-reasons-why-sharks-are-better-than-cats/