I am thankful for the outlet that is this blog.
These entries are going to be the only way I'll be able to remember Colin's childhood. No wonder mothers only have a few choice stories to tell when looking back - there's too much chaos brewing upstairs to remember anything. When I ask my mom to tell me what I was like as a kid, she gets a little panicky. Probably has a touch o the post traumatic stress disorder from those years.
I kept a paper journal for a few months when the Bumble was new, but I'm on the computer so much it's just easier this way. And then I don't have to try to read my own handwriting. Plus this gives me a way to vent whatever stress or frustrations are brewing. If I let things build up too much steam then whammo - Rob's getting a naggy earful about putting darks in the light side of the laundry basket. Again!WhyisthissohardtofigureoutImadesignsand everythingandyoudon'tunderstandmeanddontwalkawaywhenwe'retalkingwhatdoyoumeancrazy?!. Transferance much?
And it lets me practice my writing, for that some day when I'll write a book. Names will be changed, of course.
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