|A perfect child|
...or maybe not fun, but a challenge nonetheless.
The Momalog and Mama Wants This are hosting a blogging event for their first blogoversary. And rather than just hosting a series of giveaways (which they are doing as well), they're hosting a linkup of your favorite blog posts. Ever.
This was a really hard one for me. Not because I'm such a narcissist (which I suppose I am), but because there are so many different kinds of "best."
Do I link up my best funny post? My most read post? The post that I thought was the most well written?
I've chosen to link up one of my oldest posts. It's about realizing that I will always be pretty much a failure at parenting. Which isn't a bad thing, exactly, it's simply inevitable.
The Tibetan Book of the Dead and Jewish Guilt
It was my 29th blog post (this is post number 286), and the one that really changed the direction of this blog into what it is today. Prior to that, I had thought I was actually going to offer parenting advice or household tips or something.
I must have been crazy.
This is the post where I found Becoming SuperMommy's voice. Don't get me wrong, this blog is still a grab bag of all sorts of things. I've even got another couple craft type tutorials in the works. And recipes. And other things I probably haven't even thought of yet. But for the most part, I know who Becoming SuperMommy is, and she's the lady that wrote this post.
It's one I go back to over and over again, because it constantly amazes me what we remember and what we forget.
Please read the post before reading the following paragraphs- I don't want to spoil anything for you.
After reading this post, M reminded me that the day we conceived our girls, I had told him all about this part of the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and in order to ease my worries we had gone home and snuggled in bed for most of the afternoon. Theoretically, at the moment our children were conceived, we were wrapped around each other talking about how much we loved each other and our hopes for our future and our family.
I don't know how I could have forgotten that.
But it warms my heart to no end to know how well he remembered it, and it in no way changes my feelings of gratitude for my children.
...and yes, I have agonized over the conditions in which Baby X was conceived as well.
And I am absolutely certain that Baby X will come into the world just as perfect.