... and then there is natural attenuation

One of the other things that I've learned as a geologist in the petrochemical industry is that the environment has an incredible way of healing itself. There exists, in the soil and water, naturally occurring microorganisms that literally feed off contamination that it encounters. Because of these biological processes, the mass, toxicity, mobility, volume and concentration of contamination in soil and water can often be significantly (to completely) reduced. It's a scientific fact that with time, good destroys bad and restores the earth to a well-balanced state.

So, to the hundreds of people [Good Lord, where have you been hiding?] who have sent e-mails or left kind messages, you are the natural attenuating factors in the reservoir of my soul. Your words have humbled and healed me, beyond measure. And saturated my face with happy tears.

Friday night it was like there had been a death in the family. I went to bed nearly sobbing. There are so many things that I wanted to share (including but not limited to the dogs my mother has been "picking out" for the children and Charlie in his new Troop Leader uniform - I have photographic evidence!) that were thwarted. Obviously, I was going to stick with my plan of making the blog private, but I was in terrible mourning over what it would entail and how would I even begin to track down the e-mail addresses of the family and friends to invite? AND WHAT ABOUT all the wonderful people, many of whom I've known "virtually" for years? Do I include some of them, all of them, none of them? There's a limit of 100 readers with a private blog and I'm Irish Catholic.

I have more than 100 cousins!

Tonight, I'm sipping a nice pumpkin ale. And because of that nice pumpkin ale + a few good nights rest + my mother and my family and the masses of people who have virtually grabbed me by the shoulders, given me a good shake and said, "Jen! Those carcinogens do not deserve the power you hand them when you emotionally twist yourself into a pretzel thinking of what they said and whether there is any truth to it!" I'm recanting my prior decision, summoning my energy, and tentatively putting up a sign on my blog door that says WELCOME.

(At least for now. I wish I could predict my long-term emotional stability, alas I cannot.)

It struck me: The reason I went down to the 3Day walk this year, with my family clothed in pink, was to spread cheer and support others; I wanted to give them happiness and strength.

The reason I opted to make this blog public (five and a half years ago), was in the event someone experiencing infertility or expecting or parenting multiples stumbled upon it; I wanted to give them courage and hope.

The reason I post the pictures and stories that I do is to hopefully, validate the feelings that so many of us have, that life can be tough at times. But it's beautiful and we need to savor all of the amazingly fleeting moments and maintain faith that things are indeed unfolding as they should.

Like the vast majority of people in my immediate family, it sincerely brings me great joy to bring joy to others. And after hearing from so many "others" this past week that expressed the happiness they've gleaned from this blog, I feel a positive obligation to keep it public. Sure, I know people don't always agree with me. In retrospect, I sometimes don't agree with myself, and might wonder, "What was I thinking when I wrote that?"

But one thing is for certain: it's never been my intent to hurt anyone, especially not my children. Hopefully, the vast majority of things that I've shared here, clearly illustrate the fact that they are my #1 priority. So when I receive passive-aggressive or down right venomous comments towards me, or any one of my children, my natural instinct to not hurt anyone is rapidly replaced with a fiery desire to mow the evil-doer down like a blade of grass.

I've long been aware that I need to be extremely cognizant of our children's privacy. As they grow older, what I write about, particularly in this forum, is an evolving terrain. In so far as moderating public feedback, I'm not quite sure of the solution. Maybe I eliminate comments altogether. Or maybe I eliminate anonymous comments. Or maybe I only allow comments from people who have blogs themselves, and therefore, run the risk of having their every thought and action analyzed and/or taken completely out of context.

I'll figure it out tomorrow. Or eventually.

Tonight, I'm just going to enjoy my pumpkin ale and marvel over the phenomenal ability of good to destroy bad and restore nature to perfect harmony. To those who have offered their generously kind words in an attempt to heal and restore this microcosm, thanks.

You Are Good People.