It was about a week after I started my blog.
I’m putting The Golden Boy to bed. He has chapped lips and I put Vaseline on them. He says something to the effect of, “I suppose you’re going to tell all of your friends that I have chapped lips.”
Tracy: What?!
TGC : I know you text all of your friends and tell them things about me.
Tracy: What are you talking about?
TGC: Well you told them that I had the flu.
Tracy: Well, yes, I did.
TGC: And you told them that I had pink eye.
Tracy: Mmm…hmmm….
TGC: Well, I think that’s personal and you shouldn’t tell your friends about it. I should be able to talk about it if I want to. It’s my life to share. Not yours to share.
Tracy {out loud}: Well you’re right. Fair game. That is personal and I shouldn’t be sharing that without your approval.
Tracy {in my head}: But I just started a blog! What the hell am I going to do if I can’t share your personal stories?!
So. I have two children. But you’ll only be hearing about one of them until she gets old enough to complain about me violating her privacy. I’m only allowed to be talking about the other one if I have his approval. Fair game. I’ll admit that. But, dayum, that really screws up a lot of my stories.
Posts
I do not have nearly enough heads for all of the hats that I wear. I am, by trade, a CEO, a
General Manager, a
Chef, a
Nutritionist, a
Psychologist, a
Housekeeper, a
Laundress, a
Nurse, a
Teacher, a
Personal Shopper, a
Taxi Driver, an
Event Planner, an
Interior Designer, a
Journalist, a
Genealogist, a
Film Maker, and a
Photographer. I get paid in kisses and hugs. I am a mama. I am a wife. I am a friend. You can call me Tracy.
1 comments:
That is so funny, because my three love it usually when I talk about them and post. Although I am seriously slacking on the blog! Only the middle one has issues about it sometimes.
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