And this is where my idiocy is proven
I continued to have sick days and restless nights thinking about my mom reading my blog. And then I sent an email to Stat Counter, just to make sure I was actually interpreting their data right. And I found out that I wasn't.
Data is sorted by a project ID number that becomes part of the code that you generate and install into your site. If you placed the same code into two different websites, Statcounter will send all data to one project.
Rhonda
StatCounter Team
Statcounter will send all data to one project. Statcounter will send all data to one project. I read it again. All data to one project. So yes, it was my mom who I had e-spied upon, and it was her who checked pretty often and stayed long. But it was to my other web site. Idiot.
But the nagging feeling continued. The problem was not just my mom.
This was a wake-up call for me. I watch people's children for a living, and when I have a stressful day, I blog about their kids at night. It is so tempting to do this, as they provide the perfect blogging material. They say funny things, they have crazy tantrums, they act as if they are the center of the universe. They are cute and horrid all at once. How can I not write about them?
Their parents pay me good money to care for them. And implicit in this agreement is the understanding that I shouldn't really talk shit about them behind their backs. And I knew this, but the little nagging voice that told me so was kind of a bummer. So I ignored him.
Anyway. My blog is now private. I am humbled. I really feel horrible.
So I am back to my original goal of 6 months ago when I started this blog: just looking at the ordinary cuteness that kids do, blogging about that, and saving the serious stuff for my counselor.
I continued to have sick days and restless nights thinking about my mom reading my blog. And then I sent an email to Stat Counter, just to make sure I was actually interpreting their data right. And I found out that I wasn't.
Data is sorted by a project ID number that becomes part of the code that you generate and install into your site. If you placed the same code into two different websites, Statcounter will send all data to one project.
Rhonda
StatCounter Team
Statcounter will send all data to one project. Statcounter will send all data to one project. I read it again. All data to one project. So yes, it was my mom who I had e-spied upon, and it was her who checked pretty often and stayed long. But it was to my other web site. Idiot.
But the nagging feeling continued. The problem was not just my mom.
This was a wake-up call for me. I watch people's children for a living, and when I have a stressful day, I blog about their kids at night. It is so tempting to do this, as they provide the perfect blogging material. They say funny things, they have crazy tantrums, they act as if they are the center of the universe. They are cute and horrid all at once. How can I not write about them?
Their parents pay me good money to care for them. And implicit in this agreement is the understanding that I shouldn't really talk shit about them behind their backs. And I knew this, but the little nagging voice that told me so was kind of a bummer. So I ignored him.
Anyway. My blog is now private. I am humbled. I really feel horrible.
So I am back to my original goal of 6 months ago when I started this blog: just looking at the ordinary cuteness that kids do, blogging about that, and saving the serious stuff for my counselor.
Labels: blogging, childcare, introspection, my mama
posted by Andrea at 9:01 PM
3 Comments:
Stat Counter is evil. Once I installed it to my blog I became obsessed with checking my stats.. to the point where I take the zero second visits personally and feel badly sometimes. With my new format I did not install the counter and presume nobody looks at it when I post. I feel liberated now.
Maybe I'm not utilizing Stat Counter the right way. I don't know how people find out exactly who is coming to their blog. I do know that I would be a tad upset if I knew my parents had found my blog and were reading it.
Phew. Glad it was just a false alarm!!
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