What can I say? Life has been busy, and by the end of the day all I want to do is go to bed. Also? I blame it on Facebook.
I’ve decided Facebook is a blogger’s whore. It’s quick, easy, and always there when you just need to get something out of your system. However, much like a hookup with a working girl or guy (and I am just surmising here, since I have no actual experience in such things), Facebook isn’t enough. It satisfies the itch, but doesn’t fulfill the need.
For instance, Facebook does not allow me to write in depth about such captivating topics as:
- Victoria’s Secret advertising and the slutification of America;
- The fiscal irresponsibility of politicians from my previous state sending me mailers begging for my vote at my current, new state, address;
- My oldest daughter’s 13th birthday party and a ridiculously easy and charming fall craft the kids did;
- The statistical unlikelihood that all of the murderers in Detroit are white, despite what that new Detroit-based cop show seems to be saying;
- The ongoing story of Tank Boy and how he’s dealing with his adoption realities (and how he tries to milk it for attention at times – and don’t judge me, because you aren’t here and I don’t have time to give you the full picture right now, but he has tried to play on our sympathies, though not a lot);
- Quinn, his ever burgeoning speech, and the interesting correlation I see between it and our move this past spring (not unlike our first move and Tank Boy’s unexpectedly reduced anxiety and improved behavior).
- Selective mutism – damn if they don’t stick a stupid label on everything these days. What’s worse is the helicopter parents who buy into the need to drag their children to therapy for all of these labels. Who, me? Strong opinions? Someday I’ll share my personal tale of selective mutism with you, how I think it applies to my youngest son (though I’d never slap the label on him), and why I’d have been a fool to take him to therapy for it. Maybe when I do blog about labels I’ll even blather a bit about my experiences both as a “gifted” child and as a parent of “gifted” children, and how I feel about that one;
- The pros and cons of buying vs. making and bottling your own applesauce;
- Popcorn salt!;
- The effectiveness of house elves as domestic help – would I have to replace them every time I had one fold laundry? Hmm . . . ;
- Bioidentical hormones, the two month absence of my migraines, and the return of my Hobbit feet (and other things);
- My thoughts on God and adoption, which I’ve said for years I am going to write. It’s not that I’m avoiding it, it’s just that it’s a BIGGIE and I haven’t been able to give it the time it deserves. When I finally do write it, it will probably be in two or three parts.
See, it’s not that I’m not blogging for lack of topics. It’s just that I haven’t had time.
And Tewt the Newt is open to suggestions as to which topic should be addressed first!