Ho hum ...

I hate blogging. Can you tell by how often I do it?

I hate blogging because I apparently don't know how to blog in the way that most people do, or at least in the way that most people I know blog. See, when I am blogging I keep wanting to tell the world how I feel. How I really feel. But I can't. I keep having to censor myself for a variety of reasons so then I get to feeling like, "What the damn point?" Not that anyone is actually reading my blog any more ...

Another reason that I hate blogging also has to do with my comparing my entries to those of the blogs that I read. Is everyone else in the world really as happy, or at least as "unaffected" as they seem by their lack expression of any sort of drama? Even with all the censoring I would do, I know that I would sound incredibly depressed compared to the people whose blogs I read. I'm not. Really I'm not, but I've got some issues and I've got some complaints. Maybe I'm just reading the wrong blogs ...

Exactly ten years ago today, I found out that I was expecting my third child. How do I know or remember this? Not really sure, but I've always been pretty good at remembering dates, especially special ones. And yep, this is a special date and so is Justin, the baby I delivered in early April 2000, exactly nine months after my 35th birthday. My birthday present ;-) - told ya he was special!