I tend to be a cup-half-full kinda gel.
When good things happen, I like to blog.
When bad things happen, I don't normally want to record them for the world to see.
It occured to me during the humdinger-doozy of a Shopping Centre tanty the other day 'what if a blogger recognised me and this brat and saw us as a fraud ?'.
I know, my son is going feral, and i'm thinkin' about the bloggers. Unbelievable.
So I thought I should write about it in the better interests of balance, and yes, to ask for stories of experience, and help. Delivered in spades - awesome, thankyou.
But I also blogged about it, because ... well, just in case it seemed all sunshine and light over here. Yes, it often is - or at least, that's how I see it, but yeah, there's also screaming harrigans ( err, that would be me ), and smackings and time-outs and threats and tears and punishment.
He aint perfect, and i'm as flawed as they come.
And yesterday ?
As I watched him paint at my mums, and keeping his head in a pack of kinder seagulls while waiting for Santa ( Dear Mother-of-Kid-in-the-Spiderman-Outfit, i've noticed you and your indifference before. I understand you're too busy to discipline as you chat on your mobile I never see you without. If I never see you or your horrid little child again, it will be too soon ),
I felt like coming in and erasing yesterday's post.
Surely I must have imagined it ?
Unrelated, but I *love* this pic the boy did. It's a 'Golf Map'. See the bunkers and greens ( with little flags ? ). Awesome.
Oh - and edited to add: Click here if you'd like Santa to send a personalised video message to your child. It's pretty cool, and is handy for backing up those naughty v. nice threats :p