To My Darling Children

I don't have a lot of memories of my childhood. But unfortunately most of the memories I do have are the ones I don't want to remember. My parents divorcing. Being picked on at school, playing by myself in a one bedroom apartment. Feeling like I was alone even with my mom around.

I desperately hope you remember the good times.

I am typing this after a particularly bittersweet Saturday. We had a relaxing morning, where dad made breakfast burritos. Then we had two soccer games. Then you relaxed in the afternoon playing games with each other, and I made "monkey milkshakes" with frozen banana and some caramel. We had pizza for dinner and warm cookies for dessert while watching the new Karate Kid movie.

I am wrought with guilt as I type this during the movie. But that's what I've been doing all day - something else. I was late to Abby's game because I was working (on a Saturday). That's also why dad made breakfast. I spent the afternoon doing school stuff instead of playing games with you, and then following the puppy around, then doing laundry and cleaning and... Basically feeling overwhelmed by my "to-do" list. I was too frustrated with my own "life" when I decided no one else was allowed to have fun and made you stop playing games.

I hope when you are older you don't remember my absence. Or my many, many frazzled moments. I hope you remember pajama days, monkey milkshakes, and wrestling with your puppy. I hope you remember your dad and I cheering the loudest during your soccer games. I hope you remember us as at least trying to be patient, loving, gentle parents. I hope you remember that we were there for you. I hope your memories are cherished instead of forgettable.