For you

You’re almost 3 years old and I’ve been writing to/about you on and off since you were born. Some of it is written on paper… with a pen… using my hand… Zeus, I’m old! Then came facebook and I had to start sharing your genius with the world. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a “you” in their lives.

This is when your dad started worrying because all the stories, the little things, would be lost or inaccessible; we don’t know how far in time we can look back on our facebook profiles or if it might one day disappear.

So now you know why I’ve been forced… ok, encouraged by your father to start a blog even though I’m hooked on facebook.

Also, you don’t know this yet and I’ll hide it from you as long as I can but I’m a lazy bum. I am maybe not the queen, but certainly at least the duchess of procrastination which means that any tasks that aren’t mandatory risk perpetual delaying… but I promise to try.

I, your mother, hereby pledge to try my best at keeping this “journal of you and everything around you”.

When you’re old enough, I will require you to pledge to not hold it against me if your life, through this blog, seems like swiss cheese… with more holes than cheese. However, you will be allowed to tell me just how much I embarrass you by keeping this journal, by letting other people know that when you were two you couldn’t pronounce “fruta” and happily replaced the “fr” with a “p”, by dressing the way I most certainly will, by telling you I love you in public, and basically by just existing. Bring it on.

You’ve made it to the end of my very first post. Your dad is going to be really happy that I wrote it (he’s the one who set it all up and installed the thingamajigs and the doodads). Now it’s almost time to go pick you up from the Kita (daycare in German, for those who don’t share our everyday lingo) where you’ll screech “Mamáaaaaa!”, run at me like a crazy person and literally dive into my arms. At which point I will have to do my darndest, as always, to catch and not drop you.

I love you.


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