As I have navigated my way around the blog circuit, I occasionally leave a comment. Sometimes the author of the blog will leave a quick reply, other times no reply will be left. Normally when no reply is left, I am quick to assume that my comment had no value to the author. Then one day as I was rooting around a blog whose author hadn’t replied to my comments, I found that the author doesn’t reply to anyones comments.
So what is the best policy when it comes to comments on your blog? Do you offer a quick acknowledgment? Do you only reply to comments that you feel need further discussion? Do you not reply to any comments?
I don’t know what the best policy would be. I know as a commenter, a quick acknowledgment is nice and you feel appreciated for taking the time to read and comment. I also know the twang of insecurity and “I’m not worthy” when the author seems to acknowledge and reply to every other person who left a comment, except for mine. I am also acutely aware of the lingering question of if my comment was even read or is it simply being thrown out into a void, forever lost, when I see no signs of an author replying to anyone.
I have tried to take the approach of just acknowledging my commenters generally in my blogs. But is it enough? Because, even though I don’t answer the comments with direct replies, it certainly is not because I don’t appreciate them. I love love love to get replies. It helps me know that maybe I am entertaining, encouraging or maybe challenging others. Which are the main reasons why I continue to read most of the blogs in my blog roll.
Today was pretty uneventful. I know I said I was going to go to the Y once I dropped the kids off, but I was so drained after being up all night with my tooth, I just came back home and took a nap. I know this isn’t getting any where fast. I have never had a tooth ache like I did last night. Good thing is, my tooth hasn’t hurt one bit since I woke up from my nap. I appreciate all the prayers, they helped!
After my tooth finally stopped hurting, I was so scared to eat anything. I didn’t eat all day and I would barely sip on water. I know you have to eat, that starving isn’t going to cause me to lose weight. I just couldn’t bring myself to try to chew anything.
By time dinner rolled around, I was STARVING. Chris couldn’t decide if he wanted Schlotzsky’s or chicken. Chicken is like my all time most hated food. Fried? Nope. Baked? Nope. Jerked? Nope. Roasted? Nope. Dumplings? Nope. You see where I am going with this….I was pulling for Schlotzsky’s.
Much to my relief, Schlotzsky’s won hands down when the wrecking crew was surveyed. Much to my horror, because I was so hungry when we finally got there, I made horrible, terrible, embarrassing food choices.
Just so we are honest from the get go, you should know that Cinnabon, while wonderfully delicious, is the bane of my existence. After tonight’s display of no self-control, I am no longer allowed to drive on that side of town alone. My lack of self-control became apparent to my husband when I picked up a six-pack to go and growled at my children when they asked to see. That was just the icing on the sweet, sticky, gooey bon.
For dinner I decided a large sandwich would be prudent. Not only would I be able to have dinner, but I could have a snack later (yea, like I need one) and lunch tomorrow. Along with the sandwich, large enough to feed a family of four, I added a large bowl of cream of broccoli and cheddar soup.
I will digress and hang my head in shame as I admit that I will not be having my sandwich for lunch tomorrow, nor will I be having it for a snack later tonight. Unable to control myself, I used ever last piece of that sandwich to soak up all the creamy, cheesy goodness of my soup. If I can manage to get my fat little arm up high enough, I will go ahead and pat myself on the back for only being able to scarf down one Cinnabon, instead of the 3 left. Yes, I did share with my kids.
Tomorrow will be a better day. I have my breakfast, snack and water already packed up. Chris is going to the Y with Camrynn and me tomorrow. Strangely enough, I don’t mind exercising in front of Chris, as supportive and encouraging as he is, he actually likes my jiggly parts.
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