I feel extremely sheepish and somewhat hypocritical for receiving such lavish attention. Oh, no, do not mis-read what I am saying. I love your attention. I crave your attention. Bring on the attention!
It's the incredible praise which makes me uncomfortable.
Yes, yes, I was one of those people, you know the ones who could never receive a compliment without "Thanks, but..." or "No, I suck." You know, one of those insecure beings who feigned humility. As I got older, though, I got better. I learned how to say "Thank you" and move on. So, for the past 420 posts or so, I have been saying Thank you! and moving on.
But I can't today. I just can't! I feel I am lying to you, dear reader, and I do not want to mess up our relationship with falsehoods.
See, I'm really not as great as you all think I am; I have many, many weaknesses. I still yell at my kids, I still ignore them while I blog, I still feed them junk when I'm tired, I still refuse to do laundry (okay, just putting it away), and I still get depressed and feel like the worst mother in the world. I may not do these things every day, but it still happens. Of course, I don't tell you all the nasty details, because I'm a positive realist (working on that optimism at all times!) and I really, really, really want you to like me! Ooh! Please like me? Oops. Too desperate? Thought so...
So, just to be clear: I am imperfect. I know, I know. The mind reels to think that Cheryl is not perfect. However, 'tis true!
Oh, and Thank You for the compliments. You really don't have to stop leaving them; I just wanted to make sure you knew for whom they were left...
- Nephew goes home tomorrow! Not necessarily happy, but it will be nice to have my schedule back.
- Tonight we are hosting some youth and leaders for Youth Conference; I totally forgot. Doh!
- My MIL is coming to visit/help me pack next week. Hooray!
- It's supposed to rain all week-end. I love rain. The smell, the sound, the smell. I just hope #1 won't have a canceled game tomorrow morning.
- I realized I haven't decorated for Easter, yet. I usually do something, but I guess the packing/babysitting/moving thing kind of got in the way of my brain.