Tuesday, May 12, 2015

To My Children

     One of the things I always made sure to buy when I found out I was expecting you was a beautiful baby book. I had these great intentions of recording all your important milestones, all those fun firsts, all those little details I wanted to remember, always.

     I'm sorry to say I have failed you miserably.
     With you, my dear oldest son, I did the best. I completed most of your first year, but the rest of your book is blank.
     With each of the rest of you, I took great care in filling out everything I could those first few weeks, but after that the pages remain blank.
      The pages of your books aren't blank because I wasn't proud of you, or didn't love you, or wasn't rejoicing and enjoying each of those precious firsts and important milestones.
      I might not remember which tooth you got first, but I do remember your first word. "Papa!" I was the one that birthed you, nursed you, changed 95% of your diapers, and all four of you said Papa as your first word.
      I don't remember the day you enjoyed your first solid food, but I remember how you used to love when I brought out your little baby food grinder and how you used to sit watching me prepare it, waving your arms and kicking those little feet of yours in eager anticipation of the yummy food you were about to get.
     I don't remember the day you were weaned, but I remember how you used to tuck your foot under my chin and held the corner of your blanket as I fed you.
     I might not remember the exact moment of your first smile or laugh, but I do remember how you used to giggle when we played Peek-a-boo with you for what felt like hours on end.
     I might not remember the first book I ever read to you, but all four of you loved the Clap Your Hands book. Both your Papa and I can still recite the entire thing by heart because we read it to you so often.
    The pages of your baby books might be mostly blank, but my mind is filled with precious memories from those days. I was so busy enjoying those moments I didn't have time to pick up a pen and write them down at the risk of missing part of those moments.
    I hope someday you will understand.
    Your mother


  1. You could be quoting me here. I did the same thing with baby books. But I remember. Oh yes. I remember. You've made me feel better.

  2. Beautifully written. Many of us are guilty of enjoying the moments and not recording them. When you become a grandmother, you can share those memories and the grandchildren will keep them.

  3. We always have the best of intentions, right. My first born had lots of entries, but by the third, Mom ran out of time!

  4. I am the eldest of four. My mom did so well with my baby book - until my brother came along. There are probably 100 photos of me to his every one. I suppose there are perks with being the test (first) baby.
    I gave birth to only one. She has three older brothers, but there are 15 years between her and the youngest boy - so I've actually done quite well with recording her actions - but seemed to have abandoned my own . . .
    I fully understand the slowing down or fading to null - but spending time with your children is more important than writing about it. It makes for a great treasure though when you are an adult and have the opportunity to read through mom's journals. My brother is transcribing them for us. I am so excited!


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