It dawned on me the other day that my kids might actually read this one day! They’ll sit down at their virtual computers, say my name or a product name I have reviewed, and up it will pop!  Lost in the thousands of posts I will hopefully have done by then, it will take them a while to sort it all out.

I hope when they are done that they are proud of me.  That I have portrayed our lives accurately and honestly.  I hope they will find it well written, of not well read.

But, I wonder, what will they really get from it?

Will they remember any of the many incidents I recall from my point of view?  Will they see it the way I did?  Or will it bring up feelings of irritation or frustration because my account is massively different from their memory?  Will they, indeed, laugh, cry, and scream when they read it?

I suppose their opinion means more to me than I am willing to fully admit.  This blog is a selfish endeavor, as I have said before.  Written by me, for me, and from my point of view.  They are simply characters, proudly puppeted for my own entertainment – well, and for my readers.  I try to think about how other adults might view it, but I never really give a lot of thought to how my costars might feel one day.  I suppose that is my privilege, as I am the author, but is it my right as well?

Will it be OK with them that I have paraded their sisterly antics, their bedtime rituals, and their bad behaviors for all to see?  Literally for all to see!

I hope that they will grow up knowing that this blog is my love affair with them.  That I write it not only for my own selfish motives, but for their benefit as well.  My hope is that they will understand that they have their history, in black and white, flanked with colorful banners and other ways people can show appreciation to me for writing it.  I pray that it teaches them that, through the good and the bad, their Mother adored them and was blessed with every single minute with them.

I suppose my hopes for their positive thoughts is arrogant.  It really will depend on the age, family relationship, and self- esteem they have when they begin reading it.  Their mindset and feeling about me at the time, and their recollection of their childhood.

In the end, my prayer is simple.  That I have the wherewithal to continue to write out this journey we are on and that they might respect me for doing it one day.  And if that is all that we get from it, then I have accomplished my ultimate goal.

I love you my girls…  all day, every day, no matter what!