It's been a long time since I felt like scrapbooking. After the convention, though, I felt inspired, and let me tell you - I have been going to town on some scrapbook pages!
I decided to make an album just about myself. Everything to this point has been my son, or my family, or something besides me. So I bought a funky pink plaid binder just for pages about me. So far, there's only one pic of me in there, but that's okay. I'm giving myself permission to scrap about the things I love and the things I hate. It's not about being witty, or having perfect design, or even getting published. It's about giving my grandchildren and great-grandchildren a picture of myself. It's about creating something that people can thumb through long after I'm gone and learn about who I was. No, I don't think I'm anything fascinating or worthy of acclaim, but I'd like to think that my descendants will be as interested in me as I am in my ancestors.
In all this, I'm learning to enjoy it again. Because I'm letting all of my pages (not just the ones about myself) be a little more real, I'm finding joy in it again. Sure, there will always be event pages - you know, birthdays and Christmas and first day of school - but I want my books to tell the story of our lives. The everyday things that made us who we were - in 100 years, those will be far more interesting than endless pictures of birthday cakes and candles.