I thought for sure I would stop writing this blog when Farrah was born.  I had done what I felt compelled to do:  document my experience with infertility, my relationship with alcohol, and finally, my labors and births. (I still need to write about doing IVF while breastfeeding, a hot topic in the IF community.)

Here’s the thing though  - I can’t stop writing.  Or taking pictures.

This blogger says that’s a good thing:  ”While it’s true that there is some oversharing in the parent blogging world, it’s quickly erased by the great service we are doing our family and our children. We are creating a record of our family’s life. We are telling the story of our children with each blog we write, each photo we take, each video we publish.”

While I agree with the work, I disagree with the intent.  I AM NOT BLOGGING AS A SERVICE TO MY CHILDREN.  If there’s one thing I know about art or any creative pursuit, it is that you must do it for yourself.  My children might not give a rat’s ass about their childhood, as is their prerogative.  When I’m ancient and alone in the home however, this blog will give me immense comfort.  I might not remember the characters but I expect I’ll still enjoy a good story.

I think Heather Armstrong over at Dooce says it best:

“I had a long conversation with my mom on the phone yesterday, most of it about my kids because she’s been out-of-town for several days and hasn’t seen them. She said she can’t wait to check my website every day to see a new picture of either girl, especially Leta because it seems like she’s getting older and taller by the minute.

“We’re watching her grow up, picture by picture on your website,” she said.

Sometimes I have to stop and step back from the idea that this is what I do for a living and remind myself how lucky I am that I have kept this record of her life.”

I am lucky too.  And supported.  And most of all, inspired.

Until the next post, Dear BPS Readers.