Should They Stay or Should They Go


To My Kids:

I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing.

Part of me thinks homeschooling will be one of the best things you’ll remember of your childhood.

Part of me thinks you’ll hate me for it.

Today I wasn’t in the mood for any of the nonsense. The 40 minutes to do a 5-minute section of math. . .the sibling arguments. . .the “I can’t do this” whine.

So, yeah, I did pull up the public school’s website to see what I’d need to do for a mid-year enrollment. But, I don’t want to make that kind of decision out of anger or frustration.

I want to make the right decision. For all of us.

We’ll try again tomorrow and, hopefully, we’ll figure this out.

Extra, Extra, Read All About It (well, maybe not "all" of it)

Last night’s picture-posting debacle was yet another example of how delicate it can be to maintain a public blog about my life without stomping on the toes of my family and friends.

I’ve sort of adopted the mantra that if I can’t say it to the person’s face, I can’t blog it. And, man is that hard. There are times my hands itch to write about something a family member did, or something a person in town said.

I’ve screwed up a few times. Thankfully, those screw ups have been fixable, like last night when I went ahead and removed Belly’s drawing of a 400-pound me with arms that looked like nipple tassels.

But, it is totally not fun for me to take that picture down. I don’t think I’m being mean-spirited in posting it, although Belly would beg to differ.

Listen, Bell, if I wanted to be mean spirited, there are so many other things I could post. Like. . .

the family member who is driving me crazy. . .

the neighbor I really dislike. . .

the hilarious story involving a urinal that someone begged me not to tell. . .

the juicy gossip about an affair in town. . .

the friend who totally disappointed me. . .

the kids I cannot stand. . .

the woman I met with a terrible Botox job. . .

It’d make for a good read, but I couldn’t do it. So, Belly, give me a break. If you start saying, “don’t put this on your blog” every single time you do something outrageous or noteworthy, it’ll really bum me out.

Thankfully, Jilly and D are still too young to censor me much. I still have a few years.

Extra, Extra, Read All About It (well, maybe not “all” of it)

Last night’s picture-posting debacle was yet another example of how delicate it can be to maintain a public blog about my life without stomping on the toes of my family and friends.

I’ve sort of adopted the mantra that if I can’t say it to the person’s face, I can’t blog it. And, man is that hard. There are times my hands itch to write about something a family member did, or something a person in town said.

I’ve screwed up a few times. Thankfully, those screw ups have been fixable, like last night when I went ahead and removed Belly’s drawing of a 400-pound me with arms that looked like nipple tassels.

But, it is totally not fun for me to take that picture down. I don’t think I’m being mean-spirited in posting it, although Belly would beg to differ.

Listen, Bell, if I wanted to be mean spirited, there are so many other things I could post. Like. . .

the family member who is driving me crazy. . .

the neighbor I really dislike. . .

the hilarious story involving a urinal that someone begged me not to tell. . .

the juicy gossip about an affair in town. . .

the friend who totally disappointed me. . .

the kids I cannot stand. . .

the woman I met with a terrible Botox job. . .

It’d make for a good read, but I couldn’t do it. So, Belly, give me a break. If you start saying, “don’t put this on your blog” every single time you do something outrageous or noteworthy, it’ll really bum me out.

Thankfully, Jilly and D are still too young to censor me much. I still have a few years.