Would Jesus Blog That??

I think I need a new blog. One where I write with a pseudonym. One where someone named Gertrude gives you the straight skinny on her life. The real stuff. The stuff I can't blog here.

Because, you see, as much as I'm giving you a window into my life, I just can't share it all. I don't share info about my marriage, and I try to honor other people's feelings. As my kids get older, I want to honor their privacy. The growing-up years are hard enough without a Mom who shares the latest about your zits and dates and all that jazz.

I've read a few blogs where the writers have ranted and raved about this or that, going off on husbands and Moms and best friends and anyone else they can find to hurt. Naming names and baring all their dirty laundry.

I'm not like that. And I don't think you should be, either.

But there are some things that are just begging to be shared. Our number-one, most hilarious moment of the year just can't be shared here. This is good stuff -- the kind of story that would have Sam spewing Diet Coke all over her computer monitor or Kayren peeing in her pants. The kind of story that could very well turn viral and bounce from computer to computer.

But we can't share it. Because someone we love would be hurt.

So if you're cruising the blogsphere and come across some really great stuff written by some chick named Gertrude or Adelaide or Eveline..... it's probably me.