When my daughters were born I started a Baby Memory Book for each of them. A typical “baby book” in which a parents can record dates, times and memories of the first year of your infants life. I was consistent with my first daughter, and furiously scribbled in every minute of her life . . . from the first time she rolled over to cutting her first tooth, to crawling and sitting on her own own. Her first word and her first step.
Child two was born, and although less diligent about filling in every single minute of her life (well, really, how could I? Not only did I have a baby, I had a 2-year old), I did manage however to fill in the blanks: first tooth, first step, first word.
Once they hit two, and the Baby Book was complete, I decided I would start a daily journal, one for each of them, writing in them every day. And I did. I wrote in how silly they were, how precious they were, and my feelings for them. I did this for about a week. These beautiful flower journals, I bought for each of them, sat on my bookshelf collecting dust. By the time I actually had a few minutes to write in them, I was too exhausted to find a pen.
Since then, I have started other journals for them, and do manage to enter a few milestones in each of them. I have really good intentions, but well, that’s about it. I know if do not set aside time every few days to write something in each of them, this memory journal thing isn’t going to happen. So I try. I write about the time my youngest insisted on wearing her pink dress with white flowers on it for days on end, and I write about a new friend my oldest has made. But mostly, I write about my feelings for each of them as they grow.
I still struggle with finding time to write, but I find that if I have a few minutes at the end of the day, when the girls are sound asleep, I will try and write a sentence or two in each. I thought it was because I want to record these memories for them so when they are older, they can read them and have a keepsake of their childhood. But I realize this is probably not the real, true reason.
I want to capture these typical “every-day-moments” – however fleeting – in my children’s lives. I feel like if I don’t write them down, they fly by. And I know it sounds silly. They are flying by either way.
My youngest graduates from preschool today. This is a VERY important event for her. A milestone in my life. Preschool is over. And I am sad. Maybe that’s why I haven’t written about it yet. I really don’t want preschool to end. I know it’s a happy occasion and I happy for her. But a piece of me is losing this little girl. She is not a baby, not a toddler, and very soon not a “little” girl anymore. In the fall, she will begin kindergarten, and begin making “big” girl memories. I’ll need to start a new journal for her then.
But for now . . . I just want to hold on to this one.