Yup, what my post title says is the truth. No arguing there. I am finding that getting back into the groove of regular writing is like coming back from a Rip Van Winkle nap. Brain cells that used to snap to attention and produce post haste now just kind of...dribble. But at least they're still there. I'm putting sentences together into some kind of cohesive order. Aren't I? I am not going back and rereading what I've written the past few days. I am very guilty of over-critiquing myself and I'll talk myself out of writing anything at all if I start that up.
Kind of like when I joined Weight Watchers a bazillion years ago. I so desperately wanted to lose weight and I did. A lot of weight. Something like 60 pounds in 8 months. I was the star of my class, the lecturer's little darling. I was put on a pedestal so high I was set up to crash, at least with the way my mind works. And boy, did I crash, hard. I became bulimic and an abuser of laxatives. I purged like crazy. I did anything to keep my weight at or below my goal for maybe a couple of years? I don't remember for sure...this was back around 1980. Then the pressure of it became too much and I fell off the band wagon with such a loud crash they probably heard it in Baltimore all the way from Portland, Oregon! My greatest enemy in my lifetime has been my scale and it has had a demonic hold on me. Or I should say it did until a few years ago. I know I'm never going to look like Cindy Crawford at 50 in a bikini. I wouldn't want to. Can you imagine the pressure on her to stay skinny? But I still refuse to look when my weight is taken at the doctor's office. I tell the nurse to just write it down...I don't want to know. Deep down I think I'm afraid I'll jump on the band wagon if I do and it will be back to the races again. Instead, I'm at what I call a 'comfortable' weight. Not skinny and not fat. Just "grandmotherly" and since I'm a 62 year old grandma, that's sufficient for me. What is so sad is the stupid things we do to our bodies in our youth come back to bite us on the behind as we get older and my dumb choices have wreaked havoc on my digestive system thru the years. You wanna dance, ya gotta pay the piper. End of story.
So...it's been a good but emotional day. My little buddy Christian was over at our house this morning for the last time before school. We had a long, very sweet hug before we piled in the van to head to school. I dropped him off and then had a lovely breakfast with a dear friend and I'm sure that helped make the morning a little less emotional. Around 11:30 our family gathered together at our grandsons' elementary school to participate in a tradition that's been upheld for many years where family, school staff, and the other kids in the school gather in the hallways to 'clap out' the 4th graders as they leave the school for the very last time. Very bittersweet and especially emotional today because our daughter will be leaving to live in Oregon in a month and she and our grandson had a very tearful moment at the end. It's great to make fresh new plans for your life...but the reality of goodbye comes knocking at your door too and I don't think my daughter knew before today just how hard that's going to be. When we moved to Michigan we came completely intact as a family but now she's heading back all on her own. Quite a different scenario this time around.
So as my brain cells...dribble...I am not going to be disheartened that my blogging audience who once upon a time was very healthy has faded away to next-to-nothing. I never started this blog 14 years ago for that reason, anyway. I began it to chronicle the lives of my grandsons and it has morphed into so many other things as well. When I first began writing this all those years ago someone left me a very rude comment that almost caused me to quit before I'd hardly begun. He said, "Who wants to read about your boring and paltry life anyway?" You know who? ME!