Praise

     A few weeks ago my mother-in-law was telling me how much she loved my blog. What she thought about certain entries and how much she enjoyed reading them. She went on and on for a bit my husband was worried something was wrong we were getting along so well. This came a few weeks after her admitting to me that she was reading it. She wasn't sure how I'd feel about it, felt like she was stalking it and needed to come clean. I had figured she was already reading it once I knew my sister-in-law was. If I'm choosing to put it all out there for anyone and everyone I can't exactly try to keep people from reading it. That sort of defeats the purpose of even doing this. I wouldn't go so far as to say she is my ideal reader, what I envisioned when I started this, but I certainly don't mind. How could I not when she's one of the few consistantly telling me what she likes about it and to "keep writing."
    I do not take criticism well. Not at all. I'm quite hard on myself when it comes to my writing which is why when I first started this years ago I didn't even edit my posts, figuring I'd hate them and never publish anything. Of course editing is all a part of the writing process and if I wanted this to be any good, or worth reading I needed to suck it up and do it right. I get discouraged easily, like when I found out my husband wasn't even reading them. It hurt a lot and I figured if he didn't even care what I had to say why bother? Eventually I got over that, realizing that he's stuck listening to what I have to say here at home all the time.  There is such a thing as too much. Even as paranoid a person as I am I still don't facebook-stalk him every day, more like every other week or so.
     I don't exactly have the best drive to keep me going, I guess. It comes and goes which is why I disappear for a week or two here and there on you guys. I get discouraged easily and give up for awhile. But being writing is such a passion I always seem to come back. Praise or no praise, because sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn't. Checking my stats and seeing someone is checking my page once a day no matter what even when I've been neglecting it makes me feel I need to get my act together and give them something new.
     In high school a friend and I planned to try out for the talent show. She had written a song and we were singing it together. I will never forget being at her house sitting at the piano practicing this song with her. When we finished her mom, dad, and even her little brother clapped for us and told us how well they thought we did. I was amazed. I never had this kind of treatment from anyone in my family before. Her whole family appreciated what we had done and showed it. It felt great. I still can't forget that feeling there in her house that day. And to this day I still know had we been in my house instead we'd have been made fun of.
    Everyone grows up different with different experiences and when I think about stuff like this I hope I'm praising my kids enough. I know I don't as I learned much better how to be critical. But I'm trying and that's all I can do. I know how much priase means to me. When I first left my job and started this blog I got comments and emails from people that made me feel good. For awhile I had them taped up by my desk to remind me. At one of my low points awhile ago I took them all down. I did not toss them of course but put them away somewhere. Words are so powerful and I have to remind myself of that more and more when talking to my kids.
     I'm trying to change but I know my mother cannot or will not. I don't contact her as much as I should. I've distanced myself over the years somewhat, feeling it in my best interest. I shudder to think what she would have to say if she was a reader of my blog. Thankfully she does not even own a computer and has no intention of doing so, probably ever. One of my sisters knows about it but I don't think she's a dedicated reader. The other sister and my brother may know and may read but I have no clue. Same goes for my dad but he's never been much of a talker so he'd probably never tell me. It's my choice to put it out there. It's my choice to write. It's my time. It's yours too, if you choose to spend it reading my words.
   Oh, and if you're wondering my friend and I didn't make it into the talent show but still being able to hear her family clapping for us is plenty good enough for me.