Posted by Duff

It hardly seems possible, but next week, My Mom Genes will reach a milestone of its own: 2 years of posts that we hope have been helpful and entertaining. We can definitely say they have been honest.

We’d like to thank you, our readers for keeping us going, for returning the support, for your solidarity.

And as fellow parents, we encourage you to record your own good, bad, ugly, hysterical and messy — because amid the exhaustion, the doing your best, the crackers in places you thought you’d never find crackers, your memory is not your friend.

The Dervish was nearly two when I began writing about her, and while she is the most interesting person I know, I have only a handful of memories of her early months, whereas I have scads of Atticus.  This disparity became apparent when a friend of mine thanked me for passing along some of The Dervish’s infant clothes.  Clothes that–even when described to me–I couldn’t remember, couldn’t pin to anecdotes.

I have pictures, I have film, but I’m greedy. I want more.

So if you can write just a paragraph from time to time, something that, like your child in your eyes, stands neon against the backdrop of the world, scribble it all in one place.

The Dervish used to cry when she was surprised. She once climbed to the top of a flight of stairs (she hadn’t yet crawled, we didn’t know she could climb even one step) in the time it took to pour a cup of coffee. She slept with her hands folded behind her head. Her first word was ‘yes’, a word she hardly ever says anymore, preferring “Of course.”

She isn’t yet four, and I had to think harder than I thought I would have just to come up with that list of things that originated before I started recording them. Two years, in retrospect, is a blink.

So, go for it. Please.

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