Privately Pinging

I knew this would happen. This utter lethargic writing response to going private. Part of it is that I'm still mad. Having defended my desire to continue public blogging for years, I'm annoyed at imagining any "I told you so"s. Part of it is also the sadness that comes when you realize certain people you hoped were friends either don't want to continue reading your blog or check it so infrequently that they don't even know you are private after nearly 2 weeks. Whatever. Being that needy and insecure is unattractive. I'd like to simply chop off that personality flaw. Part of it is that I also feel almost claustrophobic with a private blog. Like putting your cold head underneath your bed covers, it's cozy and comforting for about 30 seconds and then...well...I need air!

Still, it's nice to be away from certain eyes. There were a few readers that I knew visited my blog (hello...statcounter) but would always pretend that they didn't and now they can't anymore. Na na na na na na. Oh my gosh, there is another unattractive flaw exposed. This private business is bringing out all sorts of my worst. I promise to improve.

Now, about statcounter. That is the name of the website. If you blog, I do recommend putting one onto your blog and not simply relying on whatever "stats" blogger provides. Statcounter isn't perfect but if someone reads my blog on my website, and not with a reader (there's the loophole) I can see the visit. Additionally, if they click on a link, in particular, a picture, that registers as well. After I noticed the weird activity, my SIL called me and through comparing notes on browsers, time of visits and location, my creeper was creeping her as well. My sister didn't notice this same visitor but did notice by checking, something she didn't usually do, that a porn site had linked to her blog and she had gotten some visits from there. These are the kinds of activities that you do want to monitor. For 7 years....7 years, I have not noticed anything alarming. I have never minded visits from people I don't know. I always figure they are friends of friends or family of family and I'm a sharer. Read away. A few people I didn't know sent emails asking to continue to read and I'm glad they did. I'm sorry I forced you out of your shell. I assure you, it was not you I was concerned about.

Now, hopefully, I'll get back into the groove and start blogging again. I do have to jot down Seth's hilarious response when I shared with him what was going on. You'll recall that we had a big blow up on the evening of his track meet and his disappearance into the school without telling me. Poor Jay, in an attempt to smooth things over between us, went up to his room to talk to him about answering his phone and texts from us more promptly, saw a bunch of food wrappers and equally blew up at Seth. We have (try to have) a strict "NO FOOD" policy in bedrooms. I think it is gross. Seth does and has ignored us. I have tried fining him, giving him punishing chores, curfewing his eating all to no avail. It bothers me so much that he always says, "OK" when we holler and then continues to sneak food to his room. Seriously, it makes me want to chain our cupboards and refrigerator. But, that is not the point of this paragraph. My point is, after Jay's blowup, I felt really bad that he was sitting upstairs in his room interpreting all our criticism and loud voices into feeling that both his parents really couldn't stand him. I went upstairs and he lay on his bed with his back turned to me. I sat next to him and started to explain why I had freaked out. I told him about the strange visits on this blog and the alarming number of hits on pictures of him. He listened quietly and then deadpanned, "Maybe it was my science teacher." I burst out laughing (his science teacher strikes us both as kind of scary as she has a perpetual smile on her face. Neither of us trust someone who always smiles) and he said, "No, seriously. The other day, I noticed that she had a picture of me holding Daniel cut out from our Christmas card which I had taken to school and kept in my binder. It must have fallen out onto the floor and she said it was so cute that she wanted to keep it but didn't have room in the frame (I am having a hard time picturing what this picture must be contained in because his description doesn't match a frame) so she cut out Sam and Henry."

I'm glad he was able to laugh it all off and really glad that we ended the night as friends.

Well...there you go. Sending off this post feels a bit like hitting a ball in a racquetball court. It doesn't really feel like it is going anywhere but back to me. I've never been very good at racquetball (too much physics) but picture me with a terry cloth headband, goggles and racquet, ready to play.