I have conversations with myself. Frequently. I would blame it on being at home with a toddler but let's face it, I have had an internal (and sometimes external) monologue/dialogue going on for years. It probably dates back to being a lonely, shy, dreamy child who longed for a kindred spirit. While having one of these self-convos about how everyone tells me I should write a book, mostly because they enjoy stories of the hilarious hijinks of my six children, I had the same revelation that it appears millions of other people have had- I should write a blog! At least then I could keep people up on the 6-pack (My older children do not appreciate this nickname.) So here it is. Welcome. Move the mess from a chair and take a load off.
I know that someone will want to know what "Dear in the Headlights" is all about. As I sat to write something, I became paralyzed, as I do sometimes, with all of the options and with all of the fabulously pithy blog names of friends of mine or bloggers I admire: "I Have to Sit Down", "Herding Cats", "The Lactating Catholic" to name a few. I felt like a deer in the headlights. I feel that way a lot. My family freezes up the same way at times. My dear, sweet family. Hence, the name.
