To my dear children
The most mundane has somehow become so spectacular in the eyes of this mother that I have decided to start a journal for each of my boys. In the college ruled, spiral notebooks (that I bought at Target for .10 each), I scribe the events that we’ve shared, and my thoughts on their accomplishments and growth. I describe in full detail of the things they do, and how it makes me laugh, or frustrated, or want to hug and kiss them more.
I have also been taking more pictures to accompany my words. Taking a photograph, in the past, to me, takes away from enjoying the very moment in that moment. My mind set was that while peering through life from behind the lens, I lose a sense of what is then and there while struggling to capture the perfect picture.
Something has changed from within me. I’ve come to realize how valuable a picture can be when you’re no longer in that moment. It provides you with a real-live glimpse of your history. I want my boys to know their history. Perhaps, one day, I may want to be reminded of our history.
With love, I pour my soul into these journals accompanied by photographic detail. This is a gift, I hope, that will withstand time and trends (so, maybe I should pick up a journal with archival paper?).
Here, I give you a glimpse of our life in a day this past Sunday:
Nathan plays a little soccer…
…in his very yellow Crocs (that he had picked out on his own, I might add).
We had some frozen yogurt (Chocolate with fruity pebbles and chocolate syrup for Nathan, plain and strawberry tart with strawberries for me)…
then, watched the ducks go by. “Come here, ducks! Come here!,” Nathan would say. When that technique did not work…
…he used a whistle. “This is the last time, OK, Mom?,” he says as I asked him to whistle so that I could get a picture
We visited the pumpkin patch.
We tried to get a family shot (without Loi because he was working), and it turned out just as it should. Nathan was distracted by the fire engine that he did not want to get on. I’m cracking up in the back, and trying to maintain a portrait appropriate smile at the same time.
There is that fire engine, again.
After a bit of hesitation at the top of this huge inflatable slide…
…Nathan took a forced plunge down the slide. Thanks Auntie Diane for pushing him down. Now, that’s tough lovin’. Once he hit the bottom, he quickly got back up, brushed his bum, and ran back up the inflatable stairs.
After the third slide down, he headed over to the jumphouse for some free for all jumpin’. Well, not really free because it cost me $2.
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All the while, the little Justin sleeps.
After so much excitement, we had some downtime in the teepee. “I don’t like this ride,” Nathan says. “Let’s go.” So, we did.
Before we left, Nathan got to play with the biggest tractor ever.
Then, we said good-bye until next time, and left passing these red tractors lined all in a row that will eagerly await for our return.
October 9th, 2008 at 7:33 am
This is such a sweet post.
What a gift to give your children journals of their lives. I wish I had something like that to look back on. The pictures are wonderful and tell such a fun story. Elijah is jealous because he would be in heaven looking at all of those big tractors and fire trucks!
Really? $2 just to jump in a bounce house? That is sad.
October 9th, 2008 at 7:50 am
I think your project is fantastic! My mom wrote what I can only describe as little prayer journals for me as I was growing up. She used little day-planner spiral books for some of that time. She gave them to me when I was an adult. I absolutely treasure them now. Even though sometimes weeks of sheets would go by without a single word, there are so many little entries there that show me my mother’s loving heart towards me and let me know her better as I see the things from my childhood that touched her heart or pained her somehow. Sometimes an entry would be simply an account of day-to-day activities, sometimes they would be a quote from me, sometimes they recorded a little one-line prayer for some aspect of my life or character. In any event, anything she chose to record became a priceless record of her investment in my life. This was especially important for me to see as an adult, because I tended to remember the struggles we had more vividly than the quiet moments she recorded, so it was as if the books restored a fuller picture of my own childhood to me. I could see my life and growth through my mom’s eyes. I hope you will continue to provide periodic insights in those journals that your boys can look back at later. I think that whatever you manage to record will be an amazing gift for them!