I have come to realise a lot of things about myself in the thirteen years since I’ve become a mother. And here’s one of them: I always tend to start on projects with such passion and determination (obsessiveness, almost), until my interest in it begins to wane after a while, going dusty like all the other projects on my to-be-completed list.

It’s not like I do it intentionally. I think I get bored pretty quickly. I move through projects like a bee pollinating flowers.

Scrapbooking was one of these projects. I started a scrapbook for each of my children (except children #5 and #6 – because, come on, by then my patience and enthusiasm had gone cold like my several cups of hot chocolate I leave unfinished on the kitchen bench every day).

If you could take a look at the scrapbooks I made for my first four children, you can definitely tell how much time I had to devote to each one. When I had my first child, Vincent, I had so much time on my hands. His scrapbook is thick and chunky and turned up at the edges from over-handling it. There are piles of drawings and letters spilling out, despite the attempts of trying to shove it all back in.     I even stored ancient pressed-flowers from the time we went for a walk and he surprised me with a tiny bouquet of weeds – sorry, flowers – that he had plucked from the cracks in the sidewalk. It’s all in there, and it always makes me feel nostalgic each time I pick it up.

I’m grateful I got to note down all the funny antics he had come up with, or the time he could name all the planets of the solar system in order when he was only four (even though I had only told him twice!) or the letters I had written to him when he was born… He enjoys taking his scrapbook down off the shelf occasionally and flipping through the pages (and probably pining for the time when he was the only child and received our undivided attention, perhaps?).

But our other children’s scrapbooks are a different story.

I’m ashamed to say, they probably have two or three photos at the most, if that. And a brief description of their birth. But that’s it. It was as if with each new addition to our growing family, the scrapbook pile became a pile of scraps collecting dust on the bookshelf. I think it may have just been the thought of taking the time to sit for a few hours (with children demanding and whining and clinging and the endless cooking and cleaning…) after having to go and print out the photos, and write, and clip, and cut and glue…. Yeah, just the mere thought of all of that is exhausting! I mean I LOVE scrapbooking and journaling! Doing creative things is very therapeutic for me. But these days, who really has the time for that!? (I certainly don’t!).

journal

So here comes technology to the rescue…. or blogs, to be exact!

Being able to express my thoughts in writing and sharing with others what I’m going through; being able to relate to other parent’s experiences, meanwhile recording  things down for my children to look back on – it’s a win-win for me!

I’m one of those people who always want to share things – things I’ve read about, things I’ve seen, things I’ve learned, things that move me or annoy me – EVERYTHING! (Well, not everything, but you get what I mean). And having an online forum to express myself to people who are actually interested in what I have to share – it puts a huge smile on my face! 🙂

I enjoy reading blogs. I enjoy that moment of reading something and thinking, “Wow! I thought I was the only one who felt that way!”.

That’s the beauty and magic of the blogging world. Realising that although we are but a tiny speck in the universe, we can still find at least one other person who GETS US.

So this is me, taking that first step into the unknown. Can’t wait to share the rest of this adventure with you. Let’s see where this journal takes us.

Happy reading x

 

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