So I am now finished with entering all the old posts that I could find. I was fairly cool with not having EVERY SINGLE POST, until I went looking through the email notifications I had saved from when someone comments.

My friend Chris posted, “you made me smile 🙂 you should totally make sure you keep these kids stories stored someplace that you’ll have for a long time – imagine jocelyn’s horror when you trot out this one when you meet her first boyfriend.”

The post title that he commented on was, “Those crazy kids..” many searching on many search engines didn’t turn anything up.

This is just one of around 25 posts that are AWOL. I have no idea what cute story I posted about Jocelyn that I should trot out when her first boyfriend arrives.

You know, when this all happened, I was pretty blase about it.. but now I know that there are around 25 posts, documentation of my life, my kids’ life, that are gone, and I won’t get them back, and I don’t even know what they are, what I wrote about.

It’s not as if it was all for naught. Sometimes I write when something is pressing on me and I just have to write it out in my horrid run-on sentences and non-capitalizing blather and in so doing, I can help prop up the rock of depression long enough for me to clamber out from underneath. That’s something. I don’t want to belittle that. Even if they are gone now, writing those posts helped me at the time. Just like writing this is helping me now.

Let’s be honest, this IS me we’re talking about so half of them could have been stupid IM message logs between me and james, or a couple quoting random tv shows in an effort to get my friend Greg to add them to his Netflix queue (except that I actually have both of those) or *ahem* even my grocery list, or me reporting how yummy Perfect Pita is..

But at least one of them was a cute story about my daughter. And I have no idea what it was.