I have always found narcissism amusing, and enjoyed a hearty private laugh at this personality
And then I started a blog. I even paid actual money for a domain when numerous blog servers are 100% free. I can no longer, in good conscience, poke fun at narcissists.
I have a credit card bill to hold myself accountable, so I hope to keep this up. I never created any baby books to speak of for either of my sweet children. I feel terrible about this. At the very least, I want to have some sort of record of our lives so that in twenty years when they accuse me of neglecting my parenting duties to spend time on the internet, resulting in years of necessary psychoanalytic therapy, I can smugly show them my blogged summary of their youth and say “See all of the fun that we had!?”
My mother harasses me relentlessly about ignoring my kids in favor of the computer… while nagging me to start a blog in the same breath. This happens all the time.
I will worry about the irony of all of the faulty logic in the preceding two paragraphs later.
I am, at best, mediocre at parenting, but I love my children and husband so much that I feel like I need to invent words that don’t yet exist to properly capture and describe the depth of the emotion.
The next time my mom gives me grief about being in the general vicinity of a computer, I am going to tell her I am blogging.
I am pretty much talking to myself. That’s all for now.