Flogging

It's hard to tell my tone sometimes. I'm not a great writer. Fuck it, I'm not even a good writer. Sometimes I dread blogging; I can't think of anything to say or I don't know how to say it. Sometimes I blog in my head and when I sit down what comes out is not even close to what I wanted. People read my blog and I'm really grateful for that. It makes me feel loved. Or at least liked. I appreciate that people care enough to see what's going on with me (and by me I mean my family as well). Or they're really bored. And hey, that's ok too.

In my previous post I "publicly flogged" my wonderful and much-loved husband for making a silly mistake. And it was just that. And I know it. He was much more upset about running off with the stroller than I was. I recognize that people have real problems. Shit, sometimes I'm one of those people. The stroller thing was not a real problem and that's why I went into such detail about the incident and the subsequent flowers. I thought it would make a nice little blog read. Isn't it more fun to read about that kind of stupid shit than Addy spending another night in the hospital? I totally and completely love that Jake bought me flowers for something so goofy. There are times that I just can't believe how he puts up with me. I'm a meshugener (at certain times it's very important to bust out some Yiddish). I know it. But, because I'm the sole author of this blog, it seems that all my little bitchings come off as me berating others. And I don't intend for that to happen. I will try to stop and berate myself as well. Believe me, I do some really stupid shit that deserves some "public flogging" but Jake never blogs about it....