Let me tell you, I was tingling with excitement when Ali asked me to write a guest post while she’s off getting drunk and eating her face off in St Lucia.  I’m not sure why she thought of me, besides the fact that I pretty much just plain asked her, but I’m honoured.

You see, I can’t think of anyone more suited to sub in for the illustrious and gorgeous Ali. We have a tonne in common. In fact, we’re soul mates.

Ali is American by birth.  I’m Canadian by birth.  Oh wait, that’s not the same at all.

Ali has three children.  I have four.  Actually, besides having more kids than we know what to do with, I have one more and thus no self control.  That’s not the same either.

Ali works for an awesome company that makes working on the set of High School Musical look like selling office supplies.  I work at the Post Office.  Huh? Well, I guess that’s not right.

Ali lives and works in the fabulous and bustling city of Toronto – on the edge of Canadian culture and fashion.  I live on a farm in the tiny town of of Almonte, Ontario where our biggest claim to fame is that the inventor of basketball was born up the road.

Wow.  I guess we’re not the best match on paper.  But that’s fine. I’ll continue.

The best part about a guest post is that I can maintain a decent amount of anonymity here.   I’ll surely direct any of my readers here to read and discuss, but in the future it’s mostly unlikely that the subject of my post will find this.

Over at my place, the main subject is, like most other “Mommy Bloggers”, my kids.   Like I said, we have four children. Three girls and one very active and basically insane little boy.  Our oldest is a girl, in her twelth year.  Not only is she tall, gorgeous and athletic, but she’s just on the cusp of all those things that make twelve years old awful and amazing.  Pretty soon, things are going to start happening for her.  Puberty, boys, friends, drama.  Stuff that I’ll want to share and write about as a release, because that’s what I do to work things out. Write.

However, it’s occured to me recently that she might not want me to share all this stuff with you, dear internet.  Just like any girl her age, she’d probably prefer that I zip it.  If my own upbringing is any indication, and I’m thinking of the time my mother basically took out a personal ad when I started my period, she’ll be mortified if she finds out I’ve been blogging about whether or not she is ready for a bra.

She’s a relatively easy-going and level-headed girl, but she’s still only eleven. We all know what happens to a girl when she hits about twelve or thirteen. They basically lose all reason for about four to five years.   I think her privacy, and the privacy of her sisters after her, is probably going to be something she takes very seriously.

Until now, my blog posts have features funny anecdotes about wiping asses, what I’ve made for dinner and how my kids have reacted to me going back to work.  Still though, I’ve occasionally blogged about their state of mind, their inner turmoils and some of their struggles or triumphs.  Nothing like what will be headed our way though.   I think I might have to reign it in.

I’m sure I’ll find a whole bunch of things to write about.  Like the state of Chelsia’s eyebrows from Big Brother 9 (I’m obsessed with how insanely plucked they are!).  Or keeping watch on Angelina’s adorable baby bump. (I look like that after eating one taco too many!).

I’m curious.  What are your guidelines for blogging about your older children?  Do you draw the line somewhere?  Or is it something you haven’t really thought about?  At some point the children of Mommy Bloggers might find these blogs, no? 

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If you want to see how this all pans out and how much I do share, feel free to stop by at Bread Crumbs In The Butter.  Thanks, Ali!