Oh, those midnight ramblings

Can't go having my weird virginity rant at the top anymore. People thinks I'm cray zay. I tried to go to a class tonight (on Waldorf education) but, alas, the gnomes (which I'm told they believe in) must have run off with the school, cause I couldn't find it anywhere. So instead I hung out with Jenny, eatin' soup, watchin' the Idol. Which I have nothing to say about that hasn't been said.

I've been thinking about Mommy blogging a bit. And whether or not it's exploitative when it gets to a certain level. I've kept most of the nitty-gritty of my day-to-day parenting to myself. I have a hard time putting stuff out there. I used to crave conflict. I thrived on it. Now, it seems I've mellowed in my old age. When I started the new blog (Poopsy-woo), I deliberately used a different blogger profile. I just didn't want to open my personal blogs up to the world to that degree. It is the reason I've hesitated about joining any mommy blogging consortiums, or blogging in a truly public arena.

My parenting philosophy (...can you picture our grandmothers using that term???) is so far afield of the mainstream. Like really really afield...off in the ditch...across the street from the field. When you say something, take "we don't punish" and put it out there, you get 2 general reactions. 1) The "if you don't punish, and I put my kid in time out, you think I'm a bad evil mommy with glowing cat eyes and Medusa hair" or 2) "Your kids are going to grow up to be the scourge of the planet, and my kids will pay the taxes to keep them incarcerated."

I have some pretty strong opinions about what is right and what is wrong to do to another human being. It just happens that I apply those beliefs to all human beings, including children. But, I also believe pretty strongly that kids are resilient. Kids who were spanked grow up to be perfectly respectable human beings (...though occasionally a little kinky in the bedroom). Kids who were allowed to run rampant like feral pigs, had kool-aid in their bottles, and cried themselves to sleep also often grow up to be contributing members of the human race. The reason I do things the way I do has very little to do with "how they'll turn out". I think loved and cherished kids, for the most part, turn out fine. It has much more to do with how they feel now. Do they feel respected? Do they feel that what they think is important? I care about those things NOW. It doesn't mean I'll ever let my kids believe that I think it's alright to hit someone small and defenseless, no matter how society may dictate I react to someone spanking a child. I reserve the right to react with all the fury of hell, lest my children sense I am complacent about the bullying of the weaker. It doesn't mean I'll pump their bodies full of Red Dye 44 and aspartame either.

I'm relatively comfortable saying those things here. Cause nobody reads it! Except Pants. I love Pants. But I spend my day biting my tongue. Cause those kids, they'll push you to the brink, God love 'em. I just can't spend what little time I have trying to be diplomatic with a bunch of crazy women. The comments on some of these blogs are unreal. Women like big cats pouncing on another mother. Then come the hyenas, circling for the last shreds of dignity some poor woman has left. And after everyone has corrected each others' grammar and apostrophe placement, they all go home. And there lays the carcass. Or lies? There lies the carcass? Oh well. Guess I don't deserve to live, have an opinion, or post a blog...since I'm not sure.

The sad thing is, none of this happens to me. I just stay out of the fray. Cause I'm chicken. Or maybe I'm smart. My children aren't my property to do with as I please. I hesitate to use them in a public capacity. I'm also tired of overthinking things. Come to think of it, I'm just tired. So no conclusion for you! I'm going to bed.