Okay, so yes I will post pictures of Emma in her dress and all the party details, but first I need to get something off my chest.

The other day I was reading a fairly popular blog. It’s a blog I probably shouldn’t read because it’s pretty negative, but unfortunately, it’s become a guilty pleasure. Anyway, the author — who I do have to say is a pretty good writer and fairly funny most of the time — decided to briefly poke fun at mommy blogs and their “love letters” to their children. Now, yes, I admit that initially the author’s comment made me giggle since I am obviously guilty of this, especially within that very week.

But then the insecurity set in, and I found myself clicking over to my blog and re-reading my letter to Emma. And for a split second I was embarrassed of what I had written. It was cheesy. It was mushy. It wasn’t all funny and clever. It was, well, a love letter.

But as soon as those thoughts came, they left. Yes, IT.IS.A.LOVE.LETTER. To my child. What the heck is it supposed to say? Oh, am I supposed to drop an F bomb in there to make it funny, or make Emma feel bad about all the “trouble” she’s caused just so that I am “keeping it real”? Give me a break.

For those of you who “blog,” you know what I am talking about. There are those blogs out there — and unfortunately, these are the ones with 100+ comments — that act like you have to whine about every little thing and rip on every single person in order to offer something valuable.

Well guess what: I have a feeling THIS blog is going to mean a heck of a lot more to Emma than some child who searches the Internet some day to find out that his or her mom/dad did nothing but complain about how horrible their life was — before AND after children. No thank you. Sure we all need to vent, but I choose to leave most of my ugly thoughts between me and God. My child’s mind is going to be filled with enough negative garbage, profanity and disappointment in the years to come. I am NOT going to contribute to that.

At the end of the day, I want Emma to learn that there is still room for good old-fashioned, mushy love in this world. Because that, my friends, is what gets you through those days when all you want to do is whine.