Don’t Let Anyone Stop You From Starting A Blog

I’m an enthusiastic advocate of blogging. Whenever someone tells me they’re thinking about starting a blog I’ll be the first one to jump in and tell them to do it. I’ve seen others raise an eyebrow at the idea, phrases like over-sharing and “I’m far to private” make an appearance. And you might be, you might be far too private, but that’s got nothing to do with keeping digital memories of your family.

When I look back at the past few years of blogging history I see stories of the children that I had otherwise completely forgotten. Habits that have now disappeared, problems that I forgot we had, and issues that weren’t really issues at all. I hear the voices of little people who no longer speak with the same inflections.

While typing this I was interrupted with a phone call from school, it was Fred our third little traveller, the boy who walks with one shoelace undone, unbrushed hair sticking out from all angles, and last nights homework stuffed into his backpack. He is forever chirpy.

“Hey Mum!”

“Hey!”

“It’s Fred”

“Yes I know”

“Do you think you could bring my recorder into school?”

“Recorder? Are you guys doing something with the recorder? I thought that was last year?”

“And this year.”

“Do you even know where it is?”

“It’s probably in the drawer next to my bed, or maybe in the drawer next to Henry’s bed, but it might also be in the girls room, or in the playroom, or maybe check under the stairs, and if none of that works – try my locker downstairs.”

“I’m sure it’s next to your bed because you’ve probably been practicing every night, right?”

*whispers (he’s in the school office) “Mum, you and I both know that’s not happening”

“Love you Mum”

It is these conversations that I still want recorded. I want to remember that Henry asked me if he could borrow my sunglasses case and when I asked why he said he was having a funeral service for one of the Barbies. My sunglasses case was the perfect coffin. I want to remember that they all giggled when Henry thought Ebola was a musical instrument and Annie had to correct him and say ‘that’s a VIOLA!” I want to remember that Lizzie kept a jar labelled “things that make me smile” on her desk and that when she went on camp Annie made a trail of notes for her to follow back to her bed letting her know things that had happened while she was gone “we went to Subway” and “Fred lost a tooth” and then “I missed you”.

I want to remember that stuff.

Sometimes it’s okay to be an over-sharer.

Don’t let anyone stop you from starting a blog.

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