This is my record I've started 5 blogs yet to finish any. They're all a bit moany, a bit he said she said.
I nearly recounted the terrible tale of being blocked on twitter over a cheese sandwich.
I started telling the history of the month or the war of birthday attrition that we call September. A subtle blend of excitement, cake, jealousy, cake, fighting, six birthdays, a wedding anniversary and more bleeding cake. A bit too moany.
I half started to write about tone, the subtle and not so subtle shifts in the mood of the house that controls and underlies so much of our family life.
I pondered the number of adopters waiting and the number of children waiting, the ethics of continued recruitment and financial incentives. I was going to call it Cars: Part 2. I liked that one but I'm not so sure.
I had thought about older adoptees and the challenges for parents as they grow into young adults, family reintroduction that sort of stuff. I'm bored of my own voice.
The stuff I wanted to say, get off my chest, I can't say, I wan't to shout it from the rooftops but discretion and protection of the vulnerable takes priority. I blog to get stuff off my chest to empty my head and clear out the thoughts but the choice to waiver anonymity comes with a responsibility. It's our lived experience but just a bit too out there, a bit too edgy, a bit scary.
Maybe I should start an anonymous blog.
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