Oh, how there are things about my children that I just don’t want to forget.
I know that I will, of course. Because when I try to remember what my son was like as a baby, I only remember in little bits: an image, a feeling, a memory. And I’ll watch a video clip and hear his coos or his babbles, or see how he made a certain face, and I’ll think, ‘How could I have forgotten?’ It’s the tragedy of motherhood.
I remember when my son was still very little, and my sister told me that she could hardly even remember her oldest (4 years old at the time) as a baby. And I thought how insane that was. I thought I was immune, as I gazed at my sweet baby boy. He was my heart. I’d never forget what he was like. And then I did. Or at least parts of it, of him. Slowly, it errodes. Not completely, but it becomes fuzzier and suddenly it’s hard to remember if he was 4 or 5 months old when he started rolling over, what made him giggle for the first time, if we gave him sweet potatoes before peaches, what he smelled like when he nursed in the quiet hours of the night.
And my daughter will do something, or make a face, or a certain sound, and I’m brought back two years and a vague memory hits hard in my heart. “Oh yeah. He did that, too.”
This week, I wish I could forever remember overhearing my son play pretend (which is a relatively new thing, since he’s only 2 1/2 years old). He was sitting on his little trampoline, except it was a boat or a raft, and he was using his sister’s stuffed dog to “fish,” and talking to her. And I snuck a wooden fish from our play food set and quickly put it under the trampoline, then I told him, “Wow, I see a fish! Can you catch it?” and then he looked and actually SAW A FISH and it was like Christmas morning and magical and he believed and then I walked away so he could enjoy it and he went back to talking to the stuffed dog, only now his cheeks were a bit flushed and he was still smiling a bit.
I am blown away watching the relationship grow between my children. They hold hands. Like, a LOT. My baby girl laughs harder for her brother than anyone else, and it comes more easily. I remember feeling guilty during my pregnancy with her, like I was about to destroy my son’s whole world by taking his “only child” status away. But watching them together? It is nothing short of amazing.
My sweet baby girl… she has such a cute voice. She goes back and forth from being very quiet to very noisy. She has such a personality already. Mellow, but lets you know her demands. She gets frustrated easily, yet is incredibly patient in other ways. She likes when I rub the top of her head quickly, like she’s a dog or something. She squints and gets a goofy, appreciative grin when I do it. Right now she likes to stick her tongue out a lot. A package of baby wipes is just as much fun as her other favorite toys (a doll and an owl). She smacks herself on the top of the head, just because she can and it makes a funny noise. She gets bashful with us, in a playful way; she’ll snuggle with my husband in the evening and I’ll peek at her, and she’ll get overwhelmed and smile and then turn her face and bury it into his chest. Today, she figured out how to clap her hands together.
I can’t believe these things will be a memory very very very soon. Where does the time go?