Sometimes I wonder if on the path of parenthood I am not completely doomed for failure.
I also have a book blog, and I recently finished and reviewed the book Sing Them Home. In this book, one of the characters is a man in his late 30s but everytime he walks in front of people he remembers that his father (a small town doctor) told him that he had a farmer's swing in his gait. His father (who dies at the very beginning of the book) may have told him everyday that he was smart and wonderful (he didn't), but his son daily remembers that one comment.
For quite awhile I thought that I had time to get this parenthood thing down because the girls were too young to remember my mistakes. But now Emma is five. I remember five! I have memories from being five! What will she remember?