Wednesday, March 22, 2006

broken promises

I feel terrible. I made a promise to my daughter, and then found out that I couldn't keep it. She thinks this whole blogging thing is pretty darn cool. And she asked if she could have one of her very own. I was very leery about this, until we happened upon the idea of setting up a blog of her very own to post her stories and poems on. She's quite an amazing little writer for an almost-9-year-old. We figured it would keep her motivated to keep writing and give her practice with her keyboarding skills as well. I promised I would set up an account for her as soon as I could.
So, today, I went about setting up her very own blog for her. Only to find out that you need to be 13-years-old to have one. Sure, I could have lied about it, but that's a message we try very hard not to send to our children. Hence, the broken promise. She was very understanding, and didn't hold it against me.
And then I solved the problem the best I could. I set up yet another blog on my account that will simply be for her stories and poems. Of course, it has my goofy profile on it, but in essence, it will be hers.
If anyone ever has a couple minutes to spare, I know she'd love it if you dropped by and left a comment. So far there's only one story posted at Annie's place, but we'll try to get more up soon.

4 comments:

Dawn said...

Debi that was a good plan setting up the blog for her. Her story was just wonderful. I left a comment for her. She certainly has a flair for writing!

take care,
Dawn

debi said...

Dawn-Thanks so much for taking the time to read her story! I showed her your comments, and let me tell you, you absolutely made her day!

me said...

What a neat thing to do, Debi. She's quite the writer! It was a great little story - I left her a comment too.

debi said...

Marianne-Thank you! You have no idea how much the comments mean to her. She gets positively giddy! I think it's just what she needs to keep her writing. And I really think she should keep writing...she seems to have a natural gift. (Of course, I'm her mom, and undoubtedly have that parental bias thing going!)