Let's Talk

Oh blog.

Where has the love gone? Our relationship has become, and it pains me to say this, lackluster.

Remember our pet names for one another? I’d call you my bloggy blog, and you’d lovingly call me your own “blog administrator.”

These days I get on and you dare to ask me for my password. What is that? Why must you be so cruel? It’s like a knife through my heart.

So the posts have dwindled. I know that. You know that. So let’s talk about it. Let’s try and be mature about this.

I don’t have good news to give you. Ella’s speech is… regressing. That’s what they tell me. My backyard is one big brown pile of dog excrement. Kiah the Wonder Dog won’t stop jumping on people. The husband has all but left me for the land of corruption and budget cuts. Daniel keeps telling me (in a rather ominous tone) that one day he will be bigger than me. Ben is boycotting baths and Caleb- Caleb spends most of his time making elaborate leprechaun traps. He stopped believing in Santa, the Easter Bunny, even the tooth fairy, but, and this is my fault, he believes in leprechauns. This might be because I claimed to have witnessed a leprechaun climbing out my window when I was a little girl.

I am a compulsive liar and I fear there is no hope for me.

Japan is under water. They found a baby, days later in the rubble, crying amidst the corpses.

Who knows how to respond to news such as that. With joy? It’s a miracle? Or with horror?

You don’t really need to be told these things. But in March, I have a hard time feeling lighthearted.

Yet, there are so many things, bloggy blog (and yes- you will always be MY OWN bloggy blog) that I love about you. I like that you are always just how I left you. No child has moved things around or wiped snot all over my widgets. I like that you politely e-mail me when someone has left me a comment. I like that you always know what day it is, even when I don’t. You are a reliable friend.

I haven't forgotten you.  I just haven't had much to say.