Sometimes I love blogging, other times it feels like exercise . . . you know you should do it, but you don’t feel like it, there are a million other things you could be doing instead . . . that’s how blogging feels sometimes. But I keep at it because I think of this blog as a gift to my family. (And if you’re reading this, you’re either family or might as well be. God bless you for sticking with me this long.)
You may not have gotten a birthday gift, or a phone call at Christmas, or acknowledgement that it was Mother’s Day/Father’s Day/your anniversary . . . in fact, I know you didn’t. Cause I didn’t send one. Or call. Sorry about that. But I think about you every day as I write. I also think about you every day as I walk around just living life and collecting experiences to share with you. I think about whether something is “blogworthy” as I watch Camille start to say her first Arabic words (hallas, meaning finished), or wonder if the video I took of Camille dancing is funny just because I’m her mom, or you will find it funny too. Whether it’s an adventure like sand boarding in the desert or the day to day grind of carpooling and after school activities, every word is written with you in mind.
I try to remember to bring my camera when we go places because often my words aren’t enough. Explaining our days through pictures is the next best thing to having you right here next to me. I think about how someday, if my children are halfway around the world with my grandbabies, that I would really love to have this peek into their lives every day. And that is why I try and blog every day. Because that is the gift. Doing it even when I don’t feel inspired, when I don’t feel like my words are good enough, my stories funny enough, or my photos interesting enough.
Think of this blog as one big extended love letter to you. A present tied up with a big red bow. I hope that you love it and that it fits perfectly. I created it just for you.