Censored! (Babble)

I have now been officially blogging for one year.  I’m really enjoying it, but wonder if once my husband is home from Iraq my story will hold anyone’s interest.  I hope so, because I feel like I have more to say.  I was a bit wary at first about the idea of dealing with unpleasant comments, but almost everyone has been so supportive and kind that I feel connected now to many thoughtful people who I will likely never meet but am glad to know are out there.  (The only really unfortunate comment that comes to mind was regarding this post, but I don’t suspect she ever read anything else of mine, and every time I think of it I actually worry for the commenter a little and hope she’s okay.)

In any case, last summer when I told people I would be writing this blog, several family members took me aside to express concern.  My mass emails that were the forerunner of this blog had ventured into some pretty personal territory.  Should I be sharing such details about my kids?  Was it wise?  Was it safe?  Was it something a good mother should do?

I assured everyone that I was sensible enough not to embarrass my children (more than I do in public normally anyway) or share details of our lives that would be dangerous out in the interwebs.  I figure the blog is about my experiences, and I’m entitled to talk about myself all I want.  I’m not entitled to tell other people’s stories without permission, so I run posts by people I describe and show my children any pictures I post before I publish them.  That seems fair and it’s how I would like to be treated.  There is enough stuff in my own life to explore in writing that I never suffer writer’s block, and I have no problem being honest with strangers and friends alike, so I shouldn’t need to delve into certain areas that could be problematic to others.

But the truth is that by necessity I have to censor myself.  Some of the interesting aspects about my children I’m not at liberty to share, as much as I may want to.  Some things are just not mine to tell.

However!  That doesn’t mean I’m not busting at the seams to get certain things out.  I feel the need to over share, so I’ve come up with a solution.  Holding Down the Fort Mad Libs.  I’m going to spill it all and take out the incriminating bits and you can fill them in with whatever makes you laugh, cry, or think I’m brilliant.  Here goes:



I love Aden.  I really do.  But she still __________ and it makes me crazy!  No one can figure it out.  We’ve been discussing it with the ______ for years and she says ________ and _________, but nothing has helped.  We keep hoping she’ll grow out of it, but how many years can you keep saying that?  In the meantime her _________ is _________ and I have to __________ twice a day sometimes to keep up and it’s wearing me out.  I try to explain that the real issue is the ________, but she can’t separate that from the _________, and I’ve tried everything.  Neither the ________ or the internet is any help, because all the suggestions for solving the problem involve ____________ and Aden is not _________.  Who knows?  I’ll just cross my fingers and hope she really will ___________ eventually and we will look back one day and _________.


Quinn says ____________.  I’ve struggled with exactly how to handle this, and it’s so _________.  He could be ________ or ________ or _________, but he’s so young it’s impossible to know.   I’ve had several people I respect, including ________ and ___________, tell me that my job as a parent is to make good decisions for my son.  He doesn’t get to choose about being ________or where we _______or all kinds of important things that impact his life, but where do you draw the line?  It seems to me Quinn should have a choice about _______ even if he’s young because _________ is not ________ and I don’t get to __________.  It could impact _________ later, but kids change so quickly it might not matter by _________.  I think about it every day, but at least I’m sure that no matter what, Quinn is ________ and that’s what’s really important.


Mona is pretty much an open book.  The only thing I could reveal than would potentially embarrass her is that she ________.  It horrifies everyone.  But when I tally up the things about myself that I should change it’s way more than _______ so really, she’s ahead of the game.  But when _________ loses its appeal one day we will all be glad for it.  Especially my _________.


One of the hardest things about Ian being deployed is there are a lot of things it doesn’t make sense to bother him with.  He’s busy.  He’s _____.  So I can’t tell him ________ or ________ or how his ________ is __________ and then I __________ and then ________!!!!!  It’s probably best that I’m the one __________ is __________with, because that way Ian is still ____________, and really that’s the way it should be, but it’s still tough.  Another thing that makes it hard being away from Ian so long is that I wish _________ and __________ and that I could _________ all ___________ and ___________ with ______________, and even get out the ______________ again to ___________ with.  (If Ian’s reading this he’s enjoying that last censored bit.)


And just because my mom is always worried that I’m going to write some weird negative book about her for some reason, let me tell you about her!  My mom is __________, makes a mean _________ and can __________ like you wouldn’t believe.  And she’s _____! And ______! And incredibly __________!  I can’t believe when I was little that she __________, but now that I’m a mom I know that __________ was __________.  And I will always feel that way.


Well that feels good to get that out there.   Thanks for reading.  (And looking, because you can pretend there were some simply shocking photos with this post while you’re at it.)
Have a great day and may your ______ be ___________.  I really mean that.