I'm stuck. Winnie the Pooh stuck. If I just don't eat the damn honey I can get out of what I started. But I love honey. And so it goes with blogging.
I went out for a delightful wonderful time with my good friends tonight. In absolute passing they mentioned how my blog is scratch your eyes out uppity. Of course this is what stuck with me for the rest of the night. That I don't let on to my true self, feelings, etc. Other people have said the same thing to me. And a friend's friend read my blog (once) and thought I'm super perfect. (wait, okay, I just flattered myself a million times over, but that's along the lines of what people were saying). I do try to take a positive spin on my blog. a) who wants to read people's woes? (answer: a lot of people. so they can "relate.") b) what if ex boyfriends are reading this (answer: yes, I'm that vain) c) why the h would I want to air my dirty laundry (answer: at least my dirty laundry is smeared bananas on the shoulders of shirts)
But honestly, I've had a pretty shitty week. Then again, "shitty" is relative. I could not think of a life that I'd rather have. Because I love my life. So I guess this all is the viscous cycle of am I acting cheerful or AM i cheerful? TBD.
Mr Incredible and I have been at each other's throats. I (still) haven't printed one picture since my 8 month old was born. I've hung nary a picture on our wall to decorate the house. When I asked Mr Incredible if my love handles were coming back he answered that "maybe I should just start walking some more." (no, that's not emotionally abusive or insensitive, I expect him to answer those types of questions in honesty) My kids, particularly the eldest, are painfully shy and it can be so frustrating sometimes because people cannot see all that she has to offer. Sometimes I feel like in wanting to please everyone I please no one.
But really? That's really what I have to complain about? I have a good life. I suppose it is a cheery life, full of life, love and more love. But I do fight with my husband, yell at my kids, make a fool out of myself, and have elephants and cougars and a mirrored wall in our bedroom. I'm fiery and emotional and sometimes feel not good enough. It's not perfect, but what is?
Maybe 'Imperfect Daisies; The Tale of a Real American Housewife' should be more like The Tale of a Cheerful American Housewife; or Sarcastic American Housewife; High Strung, Low Energy American Housewife; Disregarding American Housewife
SUGGESTIONS? you know I love your opinions.