I write about so much here. What started as a let's-keep-the-family-informed sort of blog has now morphed into an outlet for my creative self. And I hold back very little. I've told you about my extra long facial hairs, how my pubic symphysis feels, and that Tim has had a vasectomy. I've revealed that I'm not a very good Catholic (and I would have said that before Tim had the vasectomy) and that I want to publish one of the novels I've written. I've spoken about death, life, and maybe even the after-life (I'll have to check on that). All topics are welcome here, I think, although there are still some personal subjects that I don't believe are appropriate to touch in this forum.
The girls, especially, like to read the blog. Sometimes, I let them, sometimes, I don't. I still haven't allowed them to read the post from my 41st birthday. I lied to them, and I'm not proud of it, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. So when they ask to read some of the blog, I point them in the direction of the posts that concern them. I usually find them twittering to each other, smiles pasted to their faces, hands over their mouths. "We said that?" they ask. And they continue reading with wide, eager eyes.
I'm glad the kids like to read the blog. It entertains them--gives them a good thrill and a chuckle. But what I am most glad of, is something that won't happen until later on...down the road, when those kids are older and wiser. At that time in the future, they'll be able to look at this blog, remember so many moments, and get to relive those times of their lives--over and over. They will remember what they were doing in November of 2012 and the details of Melina's birth back in 2008. The silly events that occurred and the maddening circumstances that arose. How we all survived the monotony of too-hot summers and the chaos of rainy falls and arctic winters.
And I'll be honest when I say that I'm glad that, because of this blog, they will remember me. They will hopefully understand my beliefs, my morals, even my quirks. They will know that I really do love to run and write and how important both of those are to my life. They will get to read about my feelings on illness, the media, novel writing, and their teachers. They'll know more about me than I knew about my mom, or that my mom knew about her mom. I'll have completed a simple, informal history, if you will.
But what I consider most important for them to learn from the blog is this: I hope they will understand that my role, my most important role, was as their mother. That I am fiercely loyal to them. That my love for them runs deeper than the deepest ocean. That I'm their best cheerleader and the one to whom they can come any time of the day or night.That they are never a bother and truthfully, they are the best things that ever happened to me--hands down. That even when I'm tired and crabby and want to go to sleep, a tiny hand or a quick hug or a smooch on the cheek is the most wonderful minute of my day.
My mom used to say, in moments of extreme stress, "What do you want from me, my blood?" It became a catch phrase in our house when I was younger. I understood it to mean that she couldn't give us any more...she was done and we needed to be happy. But everyone is different, and for me, right now, that phrase means so much more.
Kids, I'd give you my blood if you needed it. I'd give you my life, if necessary. And if you remember nothing else from these blog posts, remember this: I love your hair, your eyes, your arms, your cheeks, your toes, your stomach, your heart, your personality, your spirit, your strength. I love you. All of you and every one of you.
The girls, especially, like to read the blog. Sometimes, I let them, sometimes, I don't. I still haven't allowed them to read the post from my 41st birthday. I lied to them, and I'm not proud of it, but I'd do it again in a heartbeat. So when they ask to read some of the blog, I point them in the direction of the posts that concern them. I usually find them twittering to each other, smiles pasted to their faces, hands over their mouths. "We said that?" they ask. And they continue reading with wide, eager eyes.
I'm glad the kids like to read the blog. It entertains them--gives them a good thrill and a chuckle. But what I am most glad of, is something that won't happen until later on...down the road, when those kids are older and wiser. At that time in the future, they'll be able to look at this blog, remember so many moments, and get to relive those times of their lives--over and over. They will remember what they were doing in November of 2012 and the details of Melina's birth back in 2008. The silly events that occurred and the maddening circumstances that arose. How we all survived the monotony of too-hot summers and the chaos of rainy falls and arctic winters.
And I'll be honest when I say that I'm glad that, because of this blog, they will remember me. They will hopefully understand my beliefs, my morals, even my quirks. They will know that I really do love to run and write and how important both of those are to my life. They will get to read about my feelings on illness, the media, novel writing, and their teachers. They'll know more about me than I knew about my mom, or that my mom knew about her mom. I'll have completed a simple, informal history, if you will.
But what I consider most important for them to learn from the blog is this: I hope they will understand that my role, my most important role, was as their mother. That I am fiercely loyal to them. That my love for them runs deeper than the deepest ocean. That I'm their best cheerleader and the one to whom they can come any time of the day or night.That they are never a bother and truthfully, they are the best things that ever happened to me--hands down. That even when I'm tired and crabby and want to go to sleep, a tiny hand or a quick hug or a smooch on the cheek is the most wonderful minute of my day.
My mom used to say, in moments of extreme stress, "What do you want from me, my blood?" It became a catch phrase in our house when I was younger. I understood it to mean that she couldn't give us any more...she was done and we needed to be happy. But everyone is different, and for me, right now, that phrase means so much more.
Kids, I'd give you my blood if you needed it. I'd give you my life, if necessary. And if you remember nothing else from these blog posts, remember this: I love your hair, your eyes, your arms, your cheeks, your toes, your stomach, your heart, your personality, your spirit, your strength. I love you. All of you and every one of you.
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xoxo