"Mom, can I start a blog?"
The eldest came at me with this request last week, not altogether out-of-the-blue. He is the super imaginative one, artistic and book-wormy and writer of notes and short stories. Still, I huffed a little bit.
"A blog? Why do you want to start a blog?" I asked him, probably not even looking at him, probably while I myself was on the computer.
"I want to write my own stories and then publish them... you know, like you!"
Oh, sweet boy. But my blog is nothing. I write about laundry and cheerios, I play more with my fonts than I do with my words, it's totally unprofessional looking and you should see my hit count. I mean, it's all very amateur and sad, really.
I say nothing of this to him, of course; but I think it when he speaks up, asks me to pay attention, and tells me what's important to him. I was embarrassed and confused, wondering why on earth he would want to write a blog. Then, you know, I actually thought about it, thought about him. I see myself through his eyes.
He sees that I'm writing down our life, sharing our stories, asking for prayer. He sees that I love the way he looks in that one picture, so tall and bright, nearly reaching my shoulder. He sees that there is something worth documenting, something unique we have, something small to offer. And he sees that others - you - join me here, comment and respond, know our faces and our hearts even if you don't know our last name.
He sees the gift he has, for words and reading and imagination, and with big brown eyes and crooked teeth, says, "You know, like you."
Oh, sweet boy. You have so much to say, so much to offer the world (or maybe just your grandparents and aunts and uncles, for now). Yes, let's start you a blog.
What strange requests have your children offered up?