Stopping Time

I talked to my mom about this when the babies were only days old, how I keep trying to soak up moments but I never feel like they fully absorb.  I breathe in Sophie's sweet milkbreath and cuddle her fuzzy head in my neck, kiss on Michael's cheeks until his gummy smiles tire out, trying to memorize with my senses in a tug of war with time. 

July 4th 2010

Their faces filled in, their legs got longer. Newborn diapers made way for size ones.  The zipper sleepers, snap t-shirts, and flannel blankets they wore in my first memories of motherhood have faded from use and are becoming mementos.

I didn't write down the dates of their first smiles or rolls or giggles.  I delayed in taking pictures documenting each month's progress. I'm not keeping baby books and don't kid myself about starting scrapbooks. But I'm not beating myself up for giving my type A tendencies a rest for these first months. I've chosen to spend my time eliciting the smiles and giggles and embracing growing limbs rather than seeking out measurable details to spell out in ink.  I'm proud of myself for that.

Now that the keepsakes are piling up I do plan to go out this week for decorative boxes where I can store hospital bracelets, touching notecards, envelopes of ultrasound photos, and some clothing.  I might also buy blank journals where I can start listing trivia based on pediatrician print-outs, Facebook status updates, and other breadcrumbs back to the beginning...but only if I find the time during naps.