Timed Out

I've been in hiding. It's been a couple of months since I've posted anything here. My blog reader has seventy hundred blog posts that I haven't read. But it's not just here online that I've been in hiding. I'm realizing that I've been hiding from real life, too.

I don't leave the house unless there's a legitimate reason, like for the grocery shopping, or the actual job interview I had last week, or to avoid the indoor echo of Critter's temper tantrums. Most mornings, I'd like nothing more than to pile on about 10 comforters and not get out of bed for weeks. I know these things are probably fairly normal, and to combat them I try to exercise. I face each day with a grateful feeling that I get to enjoy my boys' smiles and giggles. And if I have to be with anyone, I plaster on a smile and a mask, and crack a good joke or two. Laughter is my lifeline, it always has been.

Part of my problem is that I refuse to have a pessimistic outlook to life. No matter how tough things are or how turbulent my insides are, I fully believe that half of the battle is in your attitude. The last thing on Earth I desire is to wake up and look at myself in the mirror and see Moaning Myrtle staring back at me. Holy Moley is that chick a major buzzkill. Call me stubborn, but yeah. That's not ever going to be me if I have any say in the matter.

Another part of my problem is that I find it very hard to write about the things that are going on in my personal life. For starters, I generally tend to follow the philosophy labeled: If you don't have anything positive (or nice) to say or contribute, then keep your yappy trap shut. I vowed I would do whatever it takes to make this as easy as possible on my boys, and that includes not talking about a lot of what is going on. Sadly enough, they (we) are learning that there are some wounds in life that you can't simply slap a band aid on or just kiss away. These moments are heartbreaking to endure, and even harder to write about.

So. We're getting to the crux of my post. I'm going to legitimately try and post more, in order to force myself out of hiding a bit. Why do I have such a strong feeling of deja vu??

And thinking of Keanu Reeves in black leather, does anyone have any good pointers to how to keep an 8year old boy from yelling in a very unquiet, turretty manner, "Look Mom!!! THERE'S YOUR BOYFRIEND!!!" every time he sees a picture of Dwayne (The Rock) Johnson in public?