I've been feeling really conflicted about this blog.
While I worked really hard going back through every single post recently in order to replace actual names with initials in an effort to maintain some sense of anonyminity, many people that know me do read this blog. And that's okay. In fact, that's more than okay. I like that my life is an open book. I like that people can read this and see that even if I sometimes come across as a great big "know-it-all" (as one of my colleagues told me recently in the nicest way possible), that is never my intention.
On the other hand . . . people I know read this blog. People like my husband. And my mother-in-law. And I like to use this blog to vent when I'm upset, to blow off steam and complain. And, as it is for most people, who do I most need to vent about? My husband. Don't get me wrong! My husband is an amazing, wonderful, incredible man. He is truly my life-partner. A superb father. A great human being. But when you are with someone, anyone, day in and day out, for as long as I have been with him, there are times when we make each other upset. They might be minor, they might be big, but that's just the way things are. Being mad does not negate all the incredible, wonderful things he does every day. It does not negate how he helps around the house so much more than he used to. Or that he has cut back on almost all the extra-curricular stuff he used to do at school so he could spend more time with our family. It's just an emotion, usually sparked by something minor.
Side note: As I write this, my stomach is cramping something fierce from some kind of stomach bug that is making me stay close to the bathroom. I had plans to go out this afternoon, but when my stomach started hurting so bad I told DH that my plans changed and that I would be grabbing the laptop and be camping out in our bedroom for the rest of the day. DH, being the wonderful person that he is, just brought me some lemonade and dry toast, between trips up and down the stairs doing loads of laundry and playing with the kids. Yeah, I'm lucky he's mine.
The thing is, since he reads this blog, any time I have vented here, he has read it and been hurt. It doesn't matter if my next post is about how great he is, it doesn't matter if it's a post from last year when he was at school WAAAAAYYY more than he was here, it hurts him to read how bad he made me feel. And it hurts him knowing that other people that know us can and do read this and may think less of him. And no matter how much better it makes me feel to get everything off my chest, it is just not worth it to hurt him like that. And that has made me really uncertain how to proceed.
But what it comes down to is this: my need to keep this blog, to have a place to write down my thoughts and feelings and memories that will soon be forgotten, is huge. We all joke that I have no memory, but it really sucks to not remember so much of my life. I need this blog so I can look back and remember. The blog stays. And I will continue to write in it.
And for those times when I'm just so steamed I have to get away from my incredible DH for fear I will say something I will really regret, those times when if I don't vent and work out my thoughts in writing I might just explode, those are the times I will write in that totally private, completely anonymous blog I started. And I'm not ever sharing that blog with DH.
A girl's gotta have SOME privacy, right?