dear children....

In this world, people don't like to talk about death. It's like talking about it will make it happen, as if otherwise it wouldn't. But we all shall die one day, whether we talk about it or not.

And since I am older than you all, I will probably pass away before you, which I certainly hope is the case.

I don't know how many of you read my blog, my dear children. But, when I die, please share these things from this post...unless of course it isn't for like fifty years and blogs are totally obsolete and forgotten by then...

Kids: Don't hold anything against me. I know I forgot your snacks and didn't get the socks matched and when you came to tell me that Sonja just smacked you or that Suze is being mean, and I just said Okay, I'll Take Care Of It and never did anything about it, I was not perfect. I got easily distracted. When you were telling me your dream about an ipad as big as our t.v. or about a zombie invasion and I interrupted you to tell a sibling to Not Step In That Water Someone Spilled, it didn't mean I wasn't interested in your dream. When you asked me to pick you up from school all those times and I couldn't, it wasn't personal. I was just too busy. When I forgot which teacher you had, it wasn't because I didn't care about you, it was just that the teachers changed each year, and I couldn't keep track.

Believe me, I tried my best. I was ever conscious of giving you each all the attention I could. I loved hearing about your days. I loved when you were interested in mine. I never ever loved one of you more than another. I was so stinkin' proud of all of you! I thought you were the prettiest, the handsomest, the smartest, most clever kids in the world. I loved the way you got along with each other, the fun we had around that dinner table. Having you all around me was more than a million times worth all the laundry and medical bills and those huge dinners I made night after night. All the dishes and diapers were nothing compared to the joy of your snuggles and even those sarcastic comments...the way you guys would MOMMMMMMM!, and I would say, "Don't MOOOMMMM me!"

Anyway, I hope you guys don't have just memories of me nagging about putting your shoes on the shelf and leaving drinks in the living room. I hope you forget the times I argued back with you, and when I would get so frustrated that I would actually stomp my feet. I didn't really care Who Left The Milk Out, no matter who did it, I still loved them. I just got a bit overwhelmed at the magnitude of the messes sometimes. I know you guys hated when I would start ranting about the state of the house, so I learned, little by little, not to do that...thanks to your helpful comments, like, "Mom, don't start!!!" Did you notice I made progress in that area?

Anyway, if you are reading this after I am gone, make sure of a few things for me. Things that keep me awake at night. Make sure you care about each other. Talk to each other. Listen to each other. Be good to Dad. He doesn't always remember to ask about your days, but he loves you more than anything and will always do anything he can to help you out.

Love,

Mom

P.S. I don't know why I felt compelled to write this. It freaks me out a little bit, to tell the truth. It might be because my heart was racing while I tried to fall asleep last night, that always makes me wonder if This Is It. But it was probably just thinking about Ben coming home from Afghanistan. And it's not like I suspect I have cancer or am anticipating a car crash. But things do happen, people all pass away at some time or another, so I just thought I would write this to you guys....now, I have to get moving because I am too nice today. I am picking Suzanne and Evelyn up from school...Kathryn and Sonja are home...and we are going gallivanting. If you are a teacher and are reading this, believe me, it will be educational. Ha, I will learn how much patience I DON'T have.