I thought that I had thick skin, but I was wrong. I’m still struggling with the criticism and “advice” and the blatantly rude and spammy comments that have started popping up. The latest treasure in the atrociously rude comment department would be this little jewel: whoaaaaa.. someone BLEW UP!! after having a baby!
Icky. Seriously, who says stuff like that? I’m doing my best to rectify my presently fat state, random rude commenter!
And no matter how many times I tell myself that this jerkwad doesn’t matter, that they are just looking for attention, that they are pathetic, etc etc, I still feel hurt and frustrated and sad, and I realize that my skin needs to be a little bit thicker if I’m going to keep writing so candidly. The comments along the lines of I’m not trying to be rude but… or I’m not trying to tell you how to parents but… are surprisingly annoying as well. TH has suggested that I change my comment policy to say that I’ll be deleting any and all comments that start with those phrases from now on. Ha! Thank you to commenters like Sarah and HamiHarri who have gone out of their way to say the things that I sometimes wish I could say myself to the commenters who get me down. I’m sure there are others that I’m not naming personally and I apologize for leaving you out. If I were Oprah I’d send you a cashmere sweater for sure.
It’s either take a break or burn out completely and give up, as many other candid bloggers with fairly large audiences have done before me. Since I want to be the grandma writing lavish posts about her grandkids I’m going to go with the break. Maybe someone like Dooce could hold a workshop on how to deal with the incredible amount of hate and judgement that come your way when you write honestly and as your blog grows. Printing them out and running over them with my car just doesn’t seem like it would be satisfying enough for me.
So I’ll be back, maybe next week but maybe the week after. I do have a really lovely guest post from a convert who volunteered to write about what it was like to become a member of the LDS Church, but other than that I’m going to work on some other projects, answer some Formspring questions as there are some really great ones sitting in my inbox (hopefully with no sarcasm or coarseness, I’m working so hard to learn to temper my temper), and attempt to build up my skin for when I jump back into this blogging thing again. Because I have SO much to tell you, as usual.
Thanks again to all of those who are constant, candid, and constructive contributors to this blog and the community that has begun to form around it. I keep writing because of all of you. In a day or two I’ll be mournfully checking my inbox throughout the day wishing for the familiar names popping up in my inbox, but a little too much of the bad is being mixed in with the good for my liking at present. I’m heading up to Washington from the 25th through the 30th, and I think some time out in the fresh air, on the boat, eating my dad’s organic pea straight from the field will be just what I need to feel revitalized and refreshed.
To end this post on a happier note, I rocked Father’s Day with this attempt at an authentic Polish lunch. Sausage, bread, butter, tomatoes, cheese, and apparently the only other thing he would have asked for was dill. There was definitely room for improvement, but the heirloom tomatoes bought at the farmer’s market were key. TH is newly obsessed with heirloom tomatoes (much as I was when I discovered them a few years ago), and now we want a farm. Or at least a vegetable garden. The combination of those tomatoes and a quick flip through Food Rules and I think he is almost as committed to the whole foods/slow food/real food movement as I am. Almost. Then at the end of the day I cried because I felt like I hadn’t done enough to show That Husband how much I appreciate him, mostly because I selfishly took a nap instead of taking over T1 for the day. I could write a cheesy post filled with random capitalization and exclamation points every day of the week and it still wouldn’t convey how much I adore my husband. He’s the cat’s meow.
Don’t be surprised if I pop in for a quick post with a few pictures of my little one though. T1 is just growing too fast for you to go too long without a glimpse of him!