Showing My Stuff

Lately I have been in trouble from one of my children for airing our dirty laundry on our (my) blog. When one of my daughters was really little she used to tell me, "Mommy, don't show my stuff," whenever I would talk about her. It just cracked me up and, of course, never worked. I didn't have children just so I could brag about them. I also had them so I could "show their stuff" to the world! I'm pretty sure that's what blogging was invented for. I'm not the most private of people, which has gotten me in trouble on occasion. Now, having said that, I do show considerable restraint at times. I mean I know when to draw the line. For instance, I didn't post the picture of the child who woke up in the morning after apparently sleepwalking the night before, and realized he or she had put on a bra over his/her pajamas sometime in the night. I would never post a picture of that, much less talk about it! Wait. Disregard.

The airing of dirty laundry seems to have become fashionable sometime in my generation. I know in my parents era and beyond, the laundry was kept firmly squished in dark closets alongside the skeletons. But it seems that we now take some sort of lopsided pleasure in playing the game of "my childhood was more dysfunctional than yours". (Mom and dad, take heart. I always lose this game.) I have spent evenings with friends comparing notes on absurd experiences from our youth. But I had one friend that always seemed to trump my stories. I remember her telling me that her dad only let them use 5 squares of toilet paper per use. No more, no less. I'm not exactly sure how he was enforcing this rule, and, come to think of it, I don't really want to know.

My children just give me too much material not to use it occasionally. So really, it's their fault. If they would just stop being so entertaining I might have fewer things to blog about. But I must say, this blog has been one of my greatest pleasures this last year and half. I wish so badly that blogging had been invented when my first was born! I'm so jealous of my "younger" friends (that's a relative term, you know) who get to blog from first baby on! No fair! I know I could have kept a journal. I know I could have scrapbooked. I know I could have done better than a 110 camera when my first was born. Seriously, that's what I used. You know, the kind where you had to wind it after each picture? I think the pixels on those were about .00096. Okay, I don't think they had pixels, but if they did, that's what it would have been. I don't have a single good picture of my first baby til she was at least 2! (sniff)

So, dear children. I'm sorry about airing our dirty laundry to the world. But you see, this blog is a necessary evil. I've decided that it guarantees you will grow up well adjusted, functioning and contributing human beings with clean laundry in that skeleton free closet. Your welcome.

And if you don't like it, get your own blog. On second thought...