As you know, Claire found my blog a while back, and I’ll find her reading it every now and again, digging into her early childhood antics. Grace knew the blog existed, but was more indifferent to it. Until a month or so ago. We were arguing about previous Halloween costumes and used the blog to settle the dispute. We read a couple more entries and then she spent the next few hours soaking it all up. I opened the door to their room one night and she looked up from the computer, sighed a heavy sigh, smiled and said, “Mom, I LOVE your blog.”
Not gonna lie — the tears sprung to my eyes and a little lump formed in my throat. When I first started writing, it was equal parts wanting to share our lives with friends/family and wanting a record of all the little memories I knew I would forget. And now, 10 years later, I am so grateful I wrote it all down.
I want them to know how silly they were. I want them to see how close they were. I want them to read about moments they’ll never remember. But most of all, I want them to know just how loved they are and have always been. When I became a mother, I remember thinking about all the sacrifices my mom must have made for me. I came to understand how much she must have loved me in order to keep me alive all those sleepless years. Not only will my kids understand that sentiment if they decide to have kids, but they have 500+ blog posts that paint a pretty full picture of my love.
And now I’m feeling a revived motivation to start writing again. One of my biggest regrets these past five years is the lack of posts. So many amazing stories that I never jotted down. So much has transpired in life that we’ll forget in the next decade. Of course, I also have compassion for myself. Life is hard. And busy. And sometimes you just want to escape into bad television instead of recapping how your four-year-old son ran around outside in his birthday suit.
So, we’ll give it another go. With the girls’ rally cries for more blogs and watching how much joy it’s bringing to their older selves, I’m giving it another go. Their 20-year-old selves will be grateful. Probably.