I have often wondered who might be reading this, on the other side of the screen. Strangers, for sure, and probably they are the ones who make me feel most at ease about writing.
Maybe one of the few friends and family I have shown the blog. Maybe they love it, and maybe they think it’s a load of old nonsense.
Perhaps you found the blog, and maybe you know who I am. Do you think it’s ridiculous? (Still reading though?) or maybe you can relate to some of it too.
But there are two people I wonder and care about, more than anyone, what their opinion of this blog will be.
My two daughters.
Okay, so now it’s not so much of an issue. They can’t read for one, and they certainly haven’t mastered IT skills (although an 11 month old using an iphone is pretty impressive / worrying in equal measures). But that won’t always be the case. Will the blog still be there in their future? On the end of a click on a keyboard? Or will, in twenty years time these passages be swallowed into some technical black hole of the internet?
What would they make of my mutterings about motherhood. Would they see it as a magical story book of our life as they grew up? Would they appreciate that I have protected their identity? Or would they still see it as an invasion of privacy? Would they be hurt that I confessed to finding it tough having them wake me up all night and drive me nuts? Or would they read the underlying tone of unconditional love that shines through in these memoirs of their childhood?
On my wedding day, my own Mother gave me a letter; it was an open expression of everything she wanted me to know about our time together as Mum and Daughter. How I was as a child, everything she loved about me, and thanking me for being the person I am. It will always be one of my most treasured moments. I know she did this as she lost her own mother far too soon – before she had a chance to hear those things from her.
Clearly, a love of writing and expressing feelings has been passed on to me, undoubtedly from her. We have joked, that she would be a brilliant blogger (if she could get past the IT side of course).
I have, of course, imagined the future with my girls. My ‘happy thought’ that gets me through the tough times of caring for two very dependent young children is the image of us enjoying lunch and shopping trips together. Becoming their best friend, supporting them through whatever life throws at them. Perhaps telling them on their wedding day, how much they mean to me.
(Of course, if that is they choose to or end up getting married – I would want them to know that whatever path their life takes I will be proud of them, and want them above anything to be happy and safe).
Maybe, I won’t be there to do that.
Either way, if you are reading this, I want you to know that you have been the best things that ever happened to me. One day you might be a Mother too, and then I think you will understand and laugh along to some of these memories I have shared. Hopefully I will be here to help you along, and let you know it will all be okay. Offer you some advice, a homebaked lasagne from the freezer and a bottle of gripe water.
Our time together so far has been the making of me, as your Mummy, and as a better person. Thank you for that.
Pure Happiness is an impromptu kitchen dance party together. Seeing you two grow as sisters; with one protective big sister always being there to catch you, little one, when you fall. Don’t ever let that change.
Becoming a mummy has taught me so much about putting others first – you two, predominantly. But, you know we would do it again a thousand times over rather than have our life back without you girls in it. Your innocence has charmed the pants off us, and everyone who knows you.
TG, you make us laugh so so much. A bright little spark who asks so many thoughtful questions. You are the best company, helping me look after your little sister with such kindness I didn’t think a three year old was capable of.
Dangermouse. Such a tiny feisty little dot. Your tenacity astounds us and already such a cheeky personality. I can’t wait to hear the conversations we will have, and see you running around which you just can’t wait to do. Loving and cuddly, you have been the most adorable baby. ‘Always happy’ as we are reminded by everyone who knows you.
Girls, be brave, life can be hard sometimes, but your wonderful family will always be there for you if you let them.
Try not to worry about everything. See the beauty in the simple things, and the world around you, like Daddy and I always showed you.
Laugh, sing, dance, play. But be sensible with peoples feelings, and look after your own body, it has to carry you a long way.
Daddy and I will always always be with you, in the very being that makes you – in the lessons we taught you, the memories we made with you, and overwhelming love we showered you with, every day.