I’m Not Bad, I Just Blog That Way

I’ve said all these things to myself.

  • I didn’t mean for it to happen. I couldn’t help myself.
  • When I started out, I thought it was just a casual fling.
  • I was very discreet… no one had to know.

You guessed it: I am engaged in extramarital blogging.

Why, what did you think I was talking about?

Until today, no one I know in three dimensions had ever read my blog. Then, at the playground, I actually met up with someone — “IRL,” as the kids say — who’s read me. (Not surprisingly, it was fellow San Franciscan Mike, whose own blog is not only much better but not anonymous.)

A couple of you know about this and have chastised me. So I’ve got one extramarital blog. Is that so bad?

Sigh. Maybe it is.

So I should tell her.

But I’m scared.

* * *

Boo was like rubber at the playground today. It was a “big-kid day”: almost every kid there was a head taller and a few miles-per-hour faster than my poor little 16-month old.

At the top of the slide stairs, two 3-year olds suddenly emerged from the tunnel and bowled her over. They weren’t being bad, they were just being three, but that didn’t help Boo, who tumbled down a couple of steps until her head came to rest on Buddy Boy’s feet.

He looked more worried than she did. Unperturbed, she got up and continued as if nothing had happened. Up the stairs, down the slide, repeat, no matter who’s trying to get in your way. All day was like that: nasty falls, snatched toys, no more goldfish — nothing could stop my little girl.

Where does she get that determination? Not from me, that’s for sure. I’m the underachiever — never got a degree, never wrote that novel, never really accomplished much more a few brief moments of inspiration for a handful of kids. I’m happy, but not particularly successful in the “worldly” sense.

And when I’m faced with a challenge — gee, like telling my wife about my blog — I slink away. I rationalize excuses that even in my own head sound just like that mute-trumpet voice adults have in Peanuts cartoons: “Whah whah whah my personal whah whah and she whah doesn’t whah whah time to read it anywhah whah whah.”

No, I can already read in Boobaby’s year-old personality that she doesn’t suffer from my wimpishness, and I know just where she gets her audacity: from my wife. My wife, who is single-handedly taking on our horrible co-owner, mean lawyers, and unhelpful loan officers to get our house sold. My wife, who deals with layer upon layer of politics and backstabbing at her job and comes out unscathed. My wife, who took her passion and made a successful career out of it.

So there it is. From the two strong women in my life, an example of boldness and tenacity for me to live by. And I’ll start by coming clean about the blog.


After I maybe redact a little from some of those early posts.

Sigh, again. Will someone please tell me that I’m doing the right thing?