Monday, March 31, 2008

confessions of a worrier

A few days ago I was talking with some friends about blogging, and we started talking about why we blog. In the course of this conversation, I realized that one of the main reasons why I blog isn't one I've really confessed to myself before, and it's kind of silly, but very true (and somewhat exacerbated by the day that Abigail, after one too many readings of Cinderella, told me that she does not have a step-mother and she does not want me to die, because she wants me to be her mommy, and then she started to cry. We haven't read Cinderella since).

Deep down, I'm afraid something will happen to me and I will die and my children won't remember me. So I blog for two reasons: so they will know the person their mother was, and so they will know how much I loved them. Of course, I also blog because I want to have a record of all the adorable things they do, and because it helps me stay in touch with friends and family, but I also blog because I've read way too many fairy tales and bildungsromans about children growing up without their mother.

I know, I know, the odds are in my favor. But still. As an inveterate worrier...just in case.

Which brings me to today's post. I'm sure that at some point in her life, Abigail will feel like her mother doesn't love her or understand her (this is more likely if I'm still around, in fact).

Which is why, my sweet little daughter, I want you to know that on your third birthday I spent a long time thinking about things you love, and what I could give you that would make you really ecstatic, and then I spent five hours two weeks ago making these:

I know, it's a small thing, but I can't wait to see your excitement when you open them. I love you so much, sweetie. I am so glad I get to be your mommy and I can watch you learn and grow. You are such a delightful little person and I feel so lucky to be with you.

I am especially excited to see your face when you find these three (four).

Love you, pumpkin.

**Oh, and I know some people asked for a tutorial on these, so I'll eventually post a photo tutorial (unless, Kathleen and Becca, you'd like to do one as the originators of the hairbows?)**


Meghan said...

Isn't literature in general an effort to counteract the mutability of life? And as you read back through your entries, you find that you have also preserved (for as long as this blog and electricity lasts) your one-year-old Abigail, and your two-year-old Abigail, and your newborn Juliet, all of whom are lost to immediate view in today's girls.
More importantly, you can relive the emotions of past moments as if they were present again. So for whatever reasons you blog, I'm glad you're doing it. And I think it will be a wonderful thing for the girls to read when they are 15, and they will enjoy seeing you from a slightly different perspective.

lanada said...

if it makes you feel any better, i'm afraid the children i haven't even borne yet are going to die in infancy. terrified, actually. how can i lose something i don't even have? at least your fear makes sense.

Crapos said...

Don't you love your kids birthdays? I'm done shopping for S (so long as I don't find something else I just have to get) and it's been so much fun thinking of just exactly what she'll love!

Rosalind said...

interesting you should say that, rachael...that's same reason i write in my journal...because if i die i want to be remembered, and also if i live i want to be remembered as something other than an old woman with wrinkles. lol. and also it's because i want people to know who i really am when i die, because i don't think anyone really knows ME. so i'll let ppl read it when i'm dead, so they won't be mad at me for thing i said about them when i was alive. lol. those hairbows are soo cute abigail will love them...i can just see her running around telling everyone to look at her princess pretties.

see u soon

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