Seriously, I’ve been told I have some processing issues, and I’m not talking about my computer, which is why the creation of a blog is so important to me. So, after the three weeks spent periodically daydreaming about the possibility of creating my very own blog, I decided to actually do it. Little did I know about the process. I read blog after blog about blogs, viewed countless low-rent (not that I consider myself high-rent; high maintenance, maybe) how-tos on YouTube, I jumped in. 2 weeks later…and I’m not sure even sure if this first entry will even publish or the darn blog is set up correctly.
So, if you have not already, read the “About” to learn a bit a bout a big new-to-me ability. No, it’s not the part where I imply that I hoard fabric, or that my kids are Army brats. It’s the other thing. An elephant in the room-sized thing. The thing I have not even wanted to share with myself let alone anyone else but realized I had no choice when I went to a work party with my husband and felt like everyone was staring at me sort of situation. Keeping silent about me, a few people that night were even decent enough break the ice about it for me to tell me husband had filled them in, so I thanked them for their concern. I believe they are genuinely concerned and I’m grateful, so I laughed at it to myself as I have a great sense of humor, but even the next morning was not sure if any more of the world should know.
I do not want this darn thing to define me. Within our household it certainly has consumed us, but step outside the front door and the facade takes front and center! Aside from always longing to be tall and slender and have much smaller than size ten feet, this is the biggest secret I have ever kept other than our personal finances, etc. Ever. Well, there was another one. For years no one but my sisters, me, my dad and my mom’s sister and her periodontist knew that my mom had dentures, but that somehow was inadvertently disclosed when my father demanded, in a kitchen full of people, to be told right then and there exactly what my sister and I were whispering about after she hung up with the funeral director on the day my mom died. We were both giving him “the look”—-which he obviously was unable to decipher—-to stop asking and drop it til we could tell him, later, privately.
But, no. He’s all about instant gratification and pouted out loud and continued being incapable of picking up our signals and hollered til one of us got so frustrated with him that it was blurted out. Yep, that was the other big secret in my life so far.