I often wonder...

....who reads me.....I see that 994 times my profile has been read, who read it?
I admit that I read many blogs and sometimes can't think of anything to comment and so disappear without saying a word, sometimes I leave a comment because we all know we love it, I am pathetically thrilled when I see I have a message, sometimes I see through e.mail that I have a comment and never read it there, I have to actually come to my blog and read who said what and feel a bit special ( in a happy, not educationally needy sort of way, although I grant you that could be up for debate on some days) .

My doctor asked for the link to my blog, heavens, I have had a good strip wash and been almost on my best behaviour in case she popped by ever since, but will I ever know? If you are here Dr M, may I say how grateful I am that I feel so comfortable coming to see you and even though you tell me to go for walks to get my thrills I still think you are a great doctor.

My sister reads my blogs but my mum doesn't, I still can't make myself be rude though, so perhaps I am much more refined than I give myself credit for.

My kids don't read my blog because they don't know where it is or how to find it, I think they know I write one but it's great that they can't read it . I am free to say they drive me insane or make my heart smile.

H doesn't read it, he says he wants me to be able to write and say what I need to say, if I knew he read it then I wouldn't. I'm glad about that although I have been known to read bits out to him, I think he is just amazed that people actually get anything out of sharing feelings. He likes others to know he is hungry although he won't ever actually SAY he is hungry, he just growls a lot and looks stoney faced, feed the beast and the sweet man reappears, simple, just the way we like our men.
I am particularly impressed with H today, he stripped, washed, dried and remade our bed today, that is SUCH a big deal, no-one has ever made a bed for me, not even the first one when I had been out of hospital for a week and had an 8 inch wound across my belly, when I did it myself the wound ripped inside and I ended up with a gaping hole for 5 months. ( or did that happen 2 hours before, when he dropped me 3 miles away at the drs to get the stitches out and went to his secret and adulterous girlfriend's house and forgot I existed- making me walk 3 miles, in rain, with no coat and a massive wound..who knows and who should probably care after all this time except me because somehow, I was too sad at the time to realise that I had every right to care. Bastard.)
Making beds is somehow unspokenly ( is that a word in real life, I know anything is a real word in blogland because what you want to be, is, hoe bloody marvellous is that?) a woman's thing isn't it? Men just don't seem to do it, certainly not ironing pillow cases and making sure they smell deliciously fresh ( and to be fair H did leave the pillows naked but he did the grunting over the fitted sheets thing which is the bane of my life) We are a bit grand in the bed department at the moment as I found sheets and valances ( even the word is grand isn't it, so much grander than 'frills') on sale, they are posh ones and reduced from £32 to £3, all smooth and silkyish and we feel just posher than posh people when we slide into bed. Life is great when your bed makes you feel posh isn't it?

I know a lot of glorious and funny women read my blog and my friends always leave me a comment, thankyou my cyber friends. I love you, you make me laugh and cry and see that I am not the only mother who is terrorised by little people.

I have a divine group of gay men who read me. I love these men, I learn more about my Dan when I read their blogs...... I am more tolerant and so much more understanding of just how strong these men are who have the courage and strength to be just who they are and show such infinite dignity when faced with such opposition, even from those who should be their very strength and support, who continue to love their families even when those very people have let them down when they need it most.
I am so grateful to them for stengthening my resolve to be my son's advocate and support. In reading the blogs of these men I have learned that being gay isn't about sexuality alone. Sexuality is the smallest part of who these men are ( except for Daniel of course, I'm not sure why he says he is gay, I know he doesn't do the sex thing because he is my son, my child.......Shawn and Dan arrange their CD's in alphabetical order in the evenings and watch the whole set of Will and Grace DVD's they own. They share a bedroom only because the flat is so tiny and there is only one bedroom but I know my child doesn't do the sex thing. Every mother knows that about their child, it is an unwritten law. We know this or we would go mad. Just as our parents don't do the sex thing...they very politely did it just enough times to beget the children they have and are very sure not to make any sounds or enjoy it or anything, they just very quietly and with dignity perform the necessary act in order to conceive us. Our children don't do it at all, honestly.)

So, who else reads me?

Would you humour me just this once ( actually, feel free to humour me whenever you like because I really would love to feel important and tell myself that I have a vast army of followers hanging on my every word, because no-one in this house EVER hears a word I say) will you say hello and leave a comment, its as easy as blink and would just make me feel beyond important...unless no-one leaves a comment and then what? Will I feel unloved and unread? Probably not...I'll still come here every night and prattle on about who knows what. If you hit the comments button and then leave a comment I will thank you from my nowhere near humble heart.......