Save the Drama for yo Mama!

I haven’t written much lately. We’ve been busy buying a house, renovating that house, moving, going crazy, fighting over tile, watching SVU, etc. It’s been an “exciting time" and blogging has not been a priority. That's one of the reasons.

The other reason I’ve been on hiatus is that my blog has been “found out” by some new readers. It seems as if everyone I know has been secretly reading, feeling guilty that they may have stumbled upon my diary. This is no diary. I do understand that this is a public forum that I have chosen to express my life and opinions. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are here. But now that you are, I will stop typing about you. Just kidding, I don’t do that here – I save that for my other blog. (Kidding, again) I'm just learning how to navigate all of this without censoring it all. You know, the worst part about censorship is *********.

Recently I ran in to someone I rarely see and as we parted ways, I say “See you soon, I hope” which was followed by a “Keep blogging.” Wait----what? How did this happen? Oh well: WELCOME.

When I started writing here, it was when Ella was a teeny tiny baby. It became my sorry, sad, sappy journal when I finally came to terms with the fact that I type faster than I write. First, I only allowed my best friend Brooke to read, as we lived hours away from each other. Then, my friend Sam--as he was always keeping tabs on Ella, me. After I realized they still liked me, I invited Nick to read. Yes, Nick my husband was #3 on the list. Not because I love him third, but because he was living it and sobbed like a baby every time he read on screen what was already consuming our life. Plus, he kept shorting out the keyboard with all those tears . It was becoming a safety hazard.

Hello, Papa. This is what I meant when I told you about “blogs.” I just type and it magically gets here.

The other reason I stopped writing was because of some criticism I got regarding 2 particular posts: "Vodka Babas" and "Shalom."

“Vodka Babas,” which really wasn’t about alcohol at all, caused quite a stir. Supposedly, mothers shouldn’t drink (but it’s ok for Dad’s!?!?) and 2 drinks is enough for most to take their shirts off. I was blogged about. It was quite exciting--- actually, it was quite infuriating. You’d have thought I committed an offense worthy of a beheading, or worse, DEFRIENDING ON FACEBOOK! Oh wait – I was!

That whole shirt issue was news to me – I must be drinking the wrong stuff!

“Shalom,” was a true pouring out of my heart. But one reader, who found me through Google, was completely offended over my use of the word Shalom. She said I didn’t understand it and had no right to use it. Her issue was that I’m not Jewish and apparently, it is a patented word. This did not hurt my feelings – it made me think that we all need to loosen up a bit!

But I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you the whole story – the part where another woman who lives in a country far away, googled “shalom” and thought it important enough to email me personally and share how she is looking for a little shalom of her own. She was thankful for my words. I also got a special shout- out from my favorite famous blogger, whose link to “Shalom” under a section called “Bitches I love” brought the strongest sense of pride I’ve ever had being called a bitch. Thank you, Stefanie Wilder Taylor-- I'm proud to be your bitch!

I also ran in to my favorite child birth educator, Amy Murray, at our galaxies biggest black hole: Wal-Mart. She was shopping for a party, but stopped me to ask my permission for her to read “Vodka Babas” to her classes. She thought it would make her prospective parents laugh and show them how life changes when you’re a parent. Amy said “It’s not even about drinking!” Amen sister, amen.

So really, I was just acting like a sissy. Sorry about the drama. Moving on.

In other news, we are 2 weeks from actually living in our house, completed, painted and cluttered with toys. My children are excited to play with toys again made in the 2000’s and I’m excited to throw all the things I don’t want the world to see in my basement!

Pictures to come when the dust (literally) settles. Until then, keep yourself safe and caffeinated.