Memorial Day 2008

I'm making memories. For me, not the kids so much. I don't know how much they'll remember the Memorial Day when we hung out on the back deck and I watched them play. That's not all the different from all of their other days.

But today I will remember that Rory is an "Indian, not an idiot, even though they sound the same." And Rory making monster footprints from Disappear boy, his best friend. And polishing his elephant feet in a bucket. And being Sir Sweeper, sweeping the deck, while I, Your Highness, watches.

I will remember when Brigit drank 3 tons of bubble pool water (and I'm sure her stomach will remember later) and stomped around the wading pool, fully clothed, dripping wet and spinning. And stuck her head and stomach through the railings of the deck so all I could see from the side was the line of her nose and the poochy tummy. And the way that she chases Ror around the deck and yard, still dripping yet, and how she can't quite slide off the deck step since the wet diaper is now acting like ballast. And now, in her best spoiled college girl wet t-shirt edition, she slams the sliding door demanding not more shots but Smarties.

My camera ran out of batteries, so I don't have real pictures of these memories, just my words to preserve them.

And so my first blog entry does that. Saves the word pictures for later, when it's a little darker and I need to remember.

Intro

Intro post, eh? Ok, I'll bite. I don't write much anymore. I mean, I write everyday, but I don't write much for myself anymore. So this blog is an attempt to do that. There will be stories, images, and some catharsis along the way. I beg of you, Kind Reader, a bit of indulgence as I find my way through life, motherhood, marriage, and what it means to be a woman in her 30s in this time. Does that sound a bit pretentious? God, I hope not.