I never had a diary growing up. This is how I have rationalized now, at 34 glorious years of age, the need to blog. Girls that kept diaries were enigmas to me. "Really, you keep a diary?", I would ask curiously as instant admiration(jealousy) came over me. Oh believe me, the idea of keeping a diary was appealing and I believed that in order have a respectable adolescence experience the need for one was above all else. But yet....I never had one. Well, I had one or two or three with good intentions of making daily entries but I think they each have one page filled out. Much like the scrapbookers of today, the diary keepers were elusive creatures to me. A true Gemini, I lack the commitment and all of my grandiose ideas are as fleeting as the careers of American Idol winners.
Being commitment-challenged means not having a solid hobby, not to mention a proper book or cd collection. Will my children someday wonder what I liked to read, listen to or what art and photographs moved me? Being that they are of the male variety chances are slim, but you never know. Also, having Alzheimer's at my age seems kind of young. I took my son to the park today, the same park I would take both of my sons to play when they were babies and toddlers. I closed my eyes and tried my best to remember what they sounded like and which one liked to swing more than the other and I couldn't do it. Posting photos and stories of my children will be, by far, the most gratifying and treasured part of keeping this blog.
Okay, let's see if we can get to page two.
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