Pangs of guilt go into my paper recycling bin. I look fondly at the doodles on school worksheets, the evolving handwriting and kid-logical spellings, but after four children I know I can’t save it all. Knowing that even the most special items I hold onto get faded and tired as the years pass, I’ve learned to take a photograph to remember the artwork in its freshness, as well as a snapshot of the artists with their creations to capture them, happy and proud, in the moment.
I had a Mother’s Day I hope to remember always. I’m in the sweet spot of having kids young enough to be full of fun and enthusiasm and old enough to be independent little people. Our oldest will soon be in the double digits in years, and though he is generally still delightful, we now get the occasional preadolescent harrumphing that reminds us to treasure the carefree times.
From my third grader, whimsical since birth.
From my first grader, thoughtful, thorough, hardworking.
From my almost-five year old, enthusiastic, exuberant and always trying to keep up with his older siblings.
From my two year old, who expects (demands) treatment equal to everyone else.
The stuff of Mother’s Day dreams.
Thanks to our good friends Will and Megyn – a decade ahead of us and wise parents to three of the greatest kids we know – for the artwork-artist-photo idea. Another brilliant thing about the idea (assuming the time and date on the camera are correct) is that more often than not I neglect to write on the artwork who made it and when. Of course I think I’ll remember, just like I think I’ll always know which baby it is in the picture. But often my memory years later isn’t up to the task.
I hope when I look back at these photos I’ll remember how happy I was to see sun and blue sky after weeks of gray and rain. I hope to recall how grateful I was to have the windows open wide, to feel the kind of temperate breeze indoors that northern Californians take for granted but much of the country savors as a fleeting gift between cold and hot. I hope the pictures will trigger memories of my funny little people so bright and clear that I can see them laughing and playing in the fresh air, hear their “I love you, Mommy”s and feel their tight Mother’s Day hugs.
I hope you all had a great spring weekend. Happy Monday, everyone.
(Knock wood, I think I have my mojo back. Writing has been slow and frustrating the last few months, not for lack of inspiration – I have a endless list of ideas – but maybe for lack of food. I think I’m going to start loosening the noose on the elimination diet, and I have a ream of health information I’m working on distilling down to blog size. I think some of it will blow your mind – it did mine. More soon.)