I need to confess something. Sometimes I am afraid to read my comments on this blog. Sometimes when my phone pings and alerts me to another email, I’m afraid to look. Sometimes when I write a new entry in this blog, I pray that it won’t inspire conversation. It’s not that I don’t love feedback. I do. I want each and every one of you to tell me how much you can empathize with what I’m going through, how you were just experiencing such and such in your own household. I want you to tell me that what I wrote made you laugh outloud, or shed a tear, or how you can’t wait for my next installation.

So what is it that has me shaking in my pumps every time I write something new and put it out there for the world to see? It’s those people that use my comment space to tell me how much I am screwing up my kids. Or it’s those people that email me personally to tell me that I am way off base. It’s those that tell me that my holiday stuffing is too fattening, and admonish me for even serving that to my kids. It’s the insinuations that I am a bad mother. It's the things that are written to me or about me that I can assure you would never be said if we were face to face. And it’s the most recent email I received from someone who told me they were sad for my children. Why were they sad? (more...)