I’ve been asked why I have no intentions of getting tattoos that symbolise my children. I’ve also been asked why I don’t blog more about the boys instead of the random “Me, Myself and I” posts that are much more frequent.
I’m not too sure if it would even make sense to the mothers out there, but having the kids in my face so much and so often doesn’t leave me much room to miss them. Let alone want to constantly gush about them, or mark my body permanently with their names. The stretch marks will suffice, thank you very much.
Sure, they’re cute – when they’re not being pain in the arses. (Especially you, Josh.) But do I really need to be talking about them all the time when they’re all I’ve been dealing with 90% of the time? Sure, I sometimes feel bad when I see how much effort other blogging mommies take to document their lil ones’ growing up. But honestly, making a documentary on print is not what I’m into. I’d rather continue discovering myself and knowing myself better.
If anything, you can see this little rambling online space as my outlet for “me time”. To think and write about other stuff that’s not related to the children; to be me in my wandering mind totality. I have learnt a lot about myself through the years of blogging, and discovered how much I have grown (and regressed in other ways). I’ll never be perfect, but it’s good to at least know what my flaws are. So if I may suddenly die, I won’t realise that I’ve been a terrible person in this way and that, and die remorsefully.
It is my inner being that decides what kind of mother I am (and will be), and not the other way round. So despite what others may say or think, I am going to keep learning about myself and be a mom who will be able to impart her (potential) wisdom to her children.