I like to think that I fall into a wide category of moms. The moms with good intentions of documenting the lives of their children who somehow get side tracked by life and it really doesn't happen. At least not to the extent that you had hoped or dreamed it would.
I do a little bit of scrap booking and when I go to scrapping retreats I always feel wholly inadequate. There is always one mom there (at least one) that is on scrapbook number 15 of her two year old's life and I sigh because I am not that mom. I want to have beautifully complete scrapbooks complete with journalling and momentos from all their activities. And yet my kids have partially complete scrapbooks and this lowly blog by which their lives are somewhat documented.
I realized the other day that time is fading events and moments that I thought I'd never forget. When you are in the trenches, the wisdom of "writing it all down" is sometimes lost or on the list of "to dos" that never get done. Or in my case, the to do list is probably buried somewhere. My Princess Pigtails is growing up. One no longer needs a glossary of Princess Pigtailsese to converse with her. But there was a day not that long ago that she had her own words for things. When she toddled around and was just learning to speak. So if you will please indulge me, I want to document some of her "words", her Princess Pigtailsese so that when I forget, when I wonder what happened to my baby, I will be reminded. Sweetly reminded.
Potholders/hot pads/oven mitts="pot pots"
Happy Birthday="happy do-do"
Lisa (a dear friend of mine that has allowed us to use her day care as drop in care at times)=SeeSaw
I love that the last two are still in her vocabulary. I hear myself correcting her. Wanting her to pronounce the words correctly. Reflecting upon those times I know that she will figure it out. She will not be a thirty year old serving her baby "yogrut". And if she is, so be it. I mean there are adults that pronounce wrestling as "rastlin"!