With the birth of my niece in October and my nephew earlier this month, there has been a lot of talk around the dinner table about babies. After spending an extended time around my niece over Thanksgiving, David asked us if babies did anything more than eat, sleep, cry and poop. Not really, dear. Which of course led to all of the kids wondering if they cried a lot and wanting to know who cried the most.
The questions have become a regular part of our dinner discussions.
Mom, which one of us cried the most? Lizzy
Mom, which one of us slept the most? David
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David fell asleep anywhere and everywhere |
Mom, which one of us snuggled the most? Joy
Mom, which one of us made the most messes? David, by far. Nothing was safe. We had to block off the book shelf or he would sit there and fling the books over his shoulder.
Mom, which one of us drooled the most? Joy. She was wearing bibs until she was eighteen months old and still managed to soak through them.
Mom, which one of us walked first? David and Lizzy both walked right around their first birthdays while Joy was a bit...slow...and waited until she was fifteen months old.
Mom, which one of us was the most curious? David. He would enter a room and "case it" for anything he could touch, take apart, or examine.
Mom, who was the messiest eater? Joy. Nuff said.
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Joy eating spaghetti |
Mom, which one of us liked to look at faces the most? Lizzy. She was fascinated by faces.
Mom, who was the best eater as a baby? Joy. She liked everything. Then Lizzy who liked food once she was around a year old. David was the picky eater who gagged and threw up on anything with texture. Who would take a piece of meat and stow it away in his cheek like a chipmunk for hours rather than actually eat it. Who hated every food that wasn't battered and deep fried, or came in a sausage tube.
Mom, who hated wearing socks? Lizzy. Every time we put socks on her, she'd whip them off and throw them on the ground. We lost so many socks (and shoes) because of her.
Mom, who threw their sippy cup into the penguin pool and the lion exhibits at the zoo? David. Though Lizzy was the one who threw her sippy cup out the window of the car.
The kids beg for stories about when they were little. They want to know what they were like, funny things they did, when they accomplished skills.
I started keeping a journal of the funny things the kids said or did a long time ago so I would remember these stories. I wrote down their stats so I'd know when they first took a step, when they first smiled, when they lost their first tooth.
When I first started keeping records of these moments, I did it so I would remember twenty years down the road. While I may have a decent memory, there are a lot of things that I forget if they're not written down. Now I keep a record because they are important to my kids who won't remember that when their new baby sister came home from the hospital, and we went over to Grandma's house for the first time, that they slammed the door in my face and told me to take said baby sister back to the hospital. Or the time that we went to the beach to watch the sunset and David stood on the shore, held his hands out and yelled STOP! to the waves. Or the moment yesterday when Joy floated on her back for the first time all by herself and then stood up with the biggest smile of pride on her face. Or the time when Lizzy rode her bike without training wheels for the first time and after her ride, turned to me and said, "That wasn't so hard after all."
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Lizzy riding her bike without training wheels for the first time |
A simple way to give my children a history of their lives. The reason why I am always taking pictures everywhere we go even though it annoys Hubby. I won't remember these moments if I don't write them down or capture them in a picture. That moment of pride, that spaghetti face, the child asleep at the table. Precious moments that I want to treasure forever.