I never thought of myself as that mother who would be hearbroken when my children left me.

Daycare, kindergarten, sleepovers, even my forays into manic related escapes. All of that, I was a survivor. After all, to me, this was what I thought being a good parent was. Preparing your children for their own lives. Without you.

My children never clung to me. They had their needs and I took care of them. Loved them. Ardently even. Held their hards to keep them safe....

katydid

The original title of this was "Fuck You, Milestones" but I thought I'd hold back a little bit on the angst.

I had just written this melancholy piece of bullshit about:

1) How my son is moving away in a few weeks and I have no idea how my daughter and I aren't going to kill one another once he's gone;

2) My job is both inspirational and I work for a She-Devil at the same time;

3) My life is still such a work in progress that...

katydid

I expected to be happy now. I didn't expect for my life to be fixed. I didn't even necessarily expect to have a job by now. I thought I'd be happy. That I would have been able to lay out a plan for what comes next. I suppose, naively, I thought that leaving the place where I was most sorrowful would make me happy. It really sucks that I was wrong.

My kid is happy and that is really amazing to see. He is getting great grades. He shocked me by joining the drama club here. I'm...

katydid

Despite my incredible sheer epic numbers of primarily nonsensical posts, my mostly withering on the vine threads I began and the fact that I can spew enough nonsense to fill 145 blogs, I realize I have really said nothing. With the exception of my "Banjo" thread~ please Andy and Lucky, for the love of God don't let that die.

I've been here far too long. I think I started saying that about three months after I made my grand entrance into the chat room as naive as they come...

katydid

I've been thinking a lot lately. I've been thinking about blogs. I look at the sheer number of blogs I've written (143 in case you can't bear to look) and I wonder if I've even said anything worth saying.

I suppose I sort of looked at a blog as a "Dear Diary" thing. Maybe people would read it, but most probably wouldn't unlock the key. At one point, I even locked down my blogs. They were still there, but just Tom and I could read them. Talk about pressure.
...

katydid