So, in all the pondering and mulling and considering I’ve been doing about giving up blogging altogether, I tried to remember why I started in the first place. I went through my archives, and I found that the posts I was most proud of, the ones that brought me some tears or a giggle or an “oh yeah, I remember that!” were posts about R.
And then it hit me – she was the reason I started to write here in the first place. I am a terrible chronicler of life. I have a scrapbook with five pages complete. Anyone who looks at it would know that in 2001, I got engaged in New Orleans, tried on wedding dresses and had a really cute puppy. And that’s it. R’s baby book is not much better – all the places where you’re supposed to “place photo of baby crawling here” or “place photo of baby’s first meal here” are blank, and a lot of the written entries are empty as well.
But this blog, oh, the difference! Here, I can read about when she started walking for real, when I first started to realize that I needed to start letting her go already, little milestones like throwing a ball, the time she ate dog food, our first family vacation, her evolution into Miss Bossy, switching her from home day care to a preschool center, her trouble with transitions, our girls weekend, and talking about God.
So I am resolving to keep this up, to try to write more about R. Maybe when she is older, she will understand how much I loved her and struggled with doing the right thing in raising her. And maybe she will also be able to realize, sooner than I did about my own mother, that I am not perfect and I make mistakes and that’s all okay.
How can I watch this little girl grow up before my very eyes and not record it somehow?