Remembering . . .
It's easy to forget why we do what we do.
I had forgotten why I had a blog, and why I used to spend time writing on it, and why I created it in the first place.
It isn't for anyone else. It isn't to give advice. It isn't really to share what's happening in our family with others.
If you happen to be here, I'm glad you are and I'm happy for you to share our journey. But I'm honestly not writing for you.
I read lots and lots of blogs, and they all have the purpose of sharing wisdom and insight about family life and homeschooling. I love those blogs.
But this is not one of those blogs. Although at some point I think I thought it should be.
And that's when I stopped writing.
The real reason I take time out of my very busy day and like to jot things down is because I want to remember. That's it. I am so in the thick of this phase of life, so immersed in its busyness and the children's dependence on me, in homeschooling and diapers and cooking meals.
When I carve time out of that to reflect on what I want to remember, I find joy. When I translate those memories into words, I eternalize them, making it so that when I am a grey, wrinkled, old lady, I will be able to look back and remember.
This is the only reason that has kept me consistently writing through the years, something I love to do.
This isn't a place for Pinterest ideas or perfect photos. It isn't a place where I will be showing some fake side of our family, at least not intentionally. I suppose I would write about the good a lot more than the bad, as that is what I want to remember :)
I don't have the time nor the desire to tell other families how it should be done. Because, honestly, I don't even know. I'm 12 1/2 years into this, and Jason and I are trying to figure it out every single day. There are successes and failures.
But overall, it is very good.
Right now, I want to remember Maria Grace's hugs. Many times every single day, she toddles over to me, lifts up her arms so that I will pick her up. She then tightly wraps her tiny arms around my neck and embraces me tightly. She plays with my hair that is usually tied back at the nape of my neck and she pats my back. Sometimes, I will burrow my head into her neck, and she laughs a deep, satisfied laugh.
I want to remember reading Charlotte's Web with Veronica and Teresa, one of my very most favorite books. Snuggled up on the red couch in our living room, we would share a chapter most nights. Two nights ago, Teresa's last night as a three year old, we finished.
I had to read two chapters in order to help Teresa move past the pain of Charlotte's death. When Charlotte died, Teresa was so surprised, just as Noah had been surprised at the deaths of Dan and Ann all of those years ago. Teresa's little body crumpled into my arms, her sobbing little body racking into my chest. It was most likely the first story she has ever heard that didn't have the perfect, happily ever after ending. She has such a sweet, loving, tender, enormous heart that also reminds me of Noah's. We shared some chocolate, and finished the story to see Charlotte's children and the circle of life.
I have now finished reading The Order of the Phoenix with Joshua and Noah, and have begun The Half-Blood Prince, the sixth of the seven Harry Potter books. My ten and twelve year old boys still want me to read to them every night, still want us to come to their room and put them to bed each night. I am so grateful for these parts of the day, and am aware that they will pass.
I find myself extremely tired today from too little sleep the past few nights, which always makes me emotional. And I find myself very conscious of the passage of time. My last post was about life with a newborn. She's not a newborn anymore. The clothes that Veronica was wearing in the photos of the past few posts have been passed down to Teresa, Teresa's clothes in the photos now fit Maria Grace.
I find myself in awe, in wonder and in complete gratitude to be watching the seasons change once again, getting ready for another fall and winter, another Thanksgiving, another Christmas, to be witnessing our children growing and changing so fast, this miracle becoming before me, day by day.
I am so grateful to witness these changes, yet in my heart, I mourn these changes at the same time.
We watched the old, animated, 1970's, Hannah Barbara Charlotte's Web movie during lunch today, with Debbie Reynold's nostalgic voice.
I began to cry, which made Teresa cry, which helped me to stop crying so that I could comfort her. We held each other in the hallway, and vowed our unending love to each other, and Teresa promised to always live nearby when she grows up and to have me over for dinner, and I told her that if she has any babies, I will help her take care of them.
I had forgotten why I had a blog, and why I used to spend time writing on it, and why I created it in the first place.
It isn't for anyone else. It isn't to give advice. It isn't really to share what's happening in our family with others.
If you happen to be here, I'm glad you are and I'm happy for you to share our journey. But I'm honestly not writing for you.
I read lots and lots of blogs, and they all have the purpose of sharing wisdom and insight about family life and homeschooling. I love those blogs.
But this is not one of those blogs. Although at some point I think I thought it should be.
And that's when I stopped writing.
The real reason I take time out of my very busy day and like to jot things down is because I want to remember. That's it. I am so in the thick of this phase of life, so immersed in its busyness and the children's dependence on me, in homeschooling and diapers and cooking meals.
When I carve time out of that to reflect on what I want to remember, I find joy. When I translate those memories into words, I eternalize them, making it so that when I am a grey, wrinkled, old lady, I will be able to look back and remember.
This is the only reason that has kept me consistently writing through the years, something I love to do.
This isn't a place for Pinterest ideas or perfect photos. It isn't a place where I will be showing some fake side of our family, at least not intentionally. I suppose I would write about the good a lot more than the bad, as that is what I want to remember :)
I don't have the time nor the desire to tell other families how it should be done. Because, honestly, I don't even know. I'm 12 1/2 years into this, and Jason and I are trying to figure it out every single day. There are successes and failures.
But overall, it is very good.
Right now, I want to remember Maria Grace's hugs. Many times every single day, she toddles over to me, lifts up her arms so that I will pick her up. She then tightly wraps her tiny arms around my neck and embraces me tightly. She plays with my hair that is usually tied back at the nape of my neck and she pats my back. Sometimes, I will burrow my head into her neck, and she laughs a deep, satisfied laugh.
I want to remember reading Charlotte's Web with Veronica and Teresa, one of my very most favorite books. Snuggled up on the red couch in our living room, we would share a chapter most nights. Two nights ago, Teresa's last night as a three year old, we finished.
I had to read two chapters in order to help Teresa move past the pain of Charlotte's death. When Charlotte died, Teresa was so surprised, just as Noah had been surprised at the deaths of Dan and Ann all of those years ago. Teresa's little body crumpled into my arms, her sobbing little body racking into my chest. It was most likely the first story she has ever heard that didn't have the perfect, happily ever after ending. She has such a sweet, loving, tender, enormous heart that also reminds me of Noah's. We shared some chocolate, and finished the story to see Charlotte's children and the circle of life.
I have now finished reading The Order of the Phoenix with Joshua and Noah, and have begun The Half-Blood Prince, the sixth of the seven Harry Potter books. My ten and twelve year old boys still want me to read to them every night, still want us to come to their room and put them to bed each night. I am so grateful for these parts of the day, and am aware that they will pass.
I find myself extremely tired today from too little sleep the past few nights, which always makes me emotional. And I find myself very conscious of the passage of time. My last post was about life with a newborn. She's not a newborn anymore. The clothes that Veronica was wearing in the photos of the past few posts have been passed down to Teresa, Teresa's clothes in the photos now fit Maria Grace.
I find myself in awe, in wonder and in complete gratitude to be watching the seasons change once again, getting ready for another fall and winter, another Thanksgiving, another Christmas, to be witnessing our children growing and changing so fast, this miracle becoming before me, day by day.
I am so grateful to witness these changes, yet in my heart, I mourn these changes at the same time.
We watched the old, animated, 1970's, Hannah Barbara Charlotte's Web movie during lunch today, with Debbie Reynold's nostalgic voice.
I began to cry, which made Teresa cry, which helped me to stop crying so that I could comfort her. We held each other in the hallway, and vowed our unending love to each other, and Teresa promised to always live nearby when she grows up and to have me over for dinner, and I told her that if she has any babies, I will help her take care of them.
Life in the barn was very good--night and day, winter and summer, spring and fall, dull days and bright days. It was the best place to be, thought Wilbur, this warm delicious cellar, with the garrulous geese, the changing seasons, the heat of the sun, the passage of swallows, the nearness of rats, the sameness of sheep, the love of spiders, the smell of manure, and the glory of everything.
- E. B. White
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