The other day Laura and I were looking for some old posts on this blog. Of course they were written by me, just not me as I am now. Me as I was then. A different me. A me with different worries, feelings, goals, different experiences. It's very weird re-reading stuff that you've written close to 10 years ago because it's a mixture of "I remember that" and "who was that guy who wrote that?".
Then it occurred to me: this blog is a time machine. Not one that I can sit in and has lovely brass and steam and go visit the Eloi, but one that I can visit a past me.
This is great because memories fade over time. Things that you think are important you learn aren't. Others that you didn't think were, are. Like this morning: I'm listening to Alice laugh and talk to herself after she woke up. It's really wonderful to listen to, but not something that you want to disturb because she'll learn that she's wet, and then when you've fixed that that she's very hungry. It's best to wait until all her needs are ready to be addressed before waking the tiny sleeping giant as it were.
So, not quite the time machine that I had always hoped at using, but one that I never expected at having.
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