I don't really know where to start. I'm not a writer. I am a mother, wife, part-time CPA, city planning commissioner, board member of our small United Way chapter, daughter, and sister. I've been reading blogs regularly for the last year or so. I've read more in blogs than I have in books recently. They seem to fit my scattered day a little better. I've really enjoyed Dooce and NotesToSelf. I bother my husband relaying the tidbits I gather throughout the day.
I have a story...a lot of life lived and lessons learned in my 36 years... but like I said, I'm not a writer. I'm not sure if and when I will write about any of it. Maybe I'll see pieces of it here and there. I'd like to write more...as a journal for me. I'm not sure if a public blog is the right way to do it. Part of me likes to share (yes, over-share) my experiences with people, but some are very painful. Not so painful for me anymore, but if others were to read it here - out in public - it might be painful for them. For me it's sometimes therapudic; a reassurance that I've recovered and can live a mostly normal, healthy life after my semi-broken childhood, because so far, I'm headed for a happy ending. I've seen therapists, created close healthy relationships, married a wonderful person who complements me. I'm contributing to my community, raising good kids, and learning to appreciate myself (the good, the bad, and the ugly) more and more every day. I think if I write much here at all, it will be an "in the moment" kind of thing. The day's observations of beauty or frustration. We'll see.
How about....we start with the name. Happy Eggs and Fried Chicken. I used to shower with my son in the mornings before school when he was very young. He didn't need the bath as a way to wind down in the evenings any longer. Instead, he seemed to benefit more from the water wake-up in the early hours. So, we climb into the shower one morning, and I ask, "How are you, today?" His response, at age 4 or 5 after some careful thought, was "I'm happy eggs and fried chicken." I, immedately, grinned broadly and proclaimed, "That sounds good. That is good, right?" yeah.... I've never forgotten. There are things I have forgotten, I'm sure. My husband and I both talk about keeping a journal of all the cute, funny, frustrating moments with our kids, but we don't actually. The other one we haven't forgotten, is "Happy Chamily Fear." This was our son's toast before dinner one evening which was meant to be "Happy Family Cheer," of course.
