When did I commit to writing a blog? When did I start? What have I shared?
I just watched a viral thread video about being a Mom and what kids say about their moms. I’m Australian so I spell it with a “u” Mum, not “o” Mom, like the Americans.
But this is going to be about something completely different.
I committed to writing my blog because I wanted to share. I always got positive feedback when I sent out my Christmas newsletters decades ago. I started noticing others sending out annual newsletters and was very happy to think I may have had an influence.
Then as I got busier and committed to other things, my Christmas newsletter sometimes didn’t get sent out till Easter. And sometimes not at all. Yet I still got positive feedback whenever I sent something out.
I want to be the positive influence. I want to be the one to encourage others to give feedback and believe that you can make a difference. But especially I want to be the one encouraging my kids to make a difference.
As I look back to the times when I first left my babies with someone else to take care of, when I needed to go somewhere. Like when my brother became a priest 25 years ago and my second son had his second birthday. Do you think it was easy to leave him and his 15 month older brother, with a girlfriend in the next town, with small twins of her own, and just go to Italy for the celebration?
Then a short time later, when I began teaching English to an English teacher, and left them both with two different girlfriends, alternating each week and then taking their kids, so each of us could have a couple of hours a week, to do whatever?
It was not easy at first, leaving the kids with strangers. We had lots of discussions about being honest with the kids and saying goodbye, not sneaking off and pretending that we were just going to the bathroom. We saw that honesty was the best policy, despite the initial protests and tears. And there were tears. Yet with time, my boys became friends with the children of my friends. And then they began to look forward to the times together, regardless of whether I was there, or it was one of the other mothers.

Letting go.