Last week, my daughter was working on a project for school that required her to complete a scrapbook-like album that included pages for family, friends, and herself. She asked for my help regarding specific events/memories from her childhood – she’s 13 now. She specifically wanted me to share a few funny anecdotes about things she did as a child.
I got to thinking and started to say, “Well, you used to…”. And then…nothing. My mind was completely blank. I swear I couldn’t remember anything specific. I mean, I remember how she was, characteristics and that sort of thing, but I was honestly struggling to find a story that was scrapbook-worthy.
A complete and total MOM=FAIL if you ask me! I mean, how could I forget all the cutesy little things she used to do? The phrases she would say that would completely crack me up? The questions she would ask? (And there were plenty of those!) She was adorable – I do remember that – and I KNOW she’s done some amazingly funny things. Buy why can’t I remember them?
Am I really getting old – is that it? Can I really chalk this up to my slowly degenerating brain cells? Early-onset Alzheimer’s? Please tell me NO! I’m her MOTHER for God’s sake! Surely moms remember this sort of thing.
Then I remembered how I used to ask my mom those very same questions. “What was I like as a baby? Did I like mac & cheese as a kid? Hey – there’s a baby picture. Was that me, Mom?” Her answer to me was always an unsure, “I don’t know.”
After hearing that, I remember being so angry…and hurt. I mean – you’re my mom, how do you not know??? Were you there? Just didn’t care enough? What?
And here I was – giving the same responses to my own kid. How did she feel after I told her that I had trouble coming up with something? Would she feel any less loved because of it? I shudder to think that that one conversation could make her feel less…anything.
I know one thing for sure – love has nothing to do with it. I adore that girl. And I know we had some fantabulous times. I simply…forgot. Or misplaced within my memory. With life, the details simply get lost. And although I struggle with the minutiae of her childhood, what I will never lose is my love for her. My baby girl.
So, as we mother’s often do, I vow to make it better…for my lil’ man. I’ve recently started a journal (my first EVER, btw…didn’t even have one in middle or high school) to chronicle all of his funny, cutesy, and downright hilarious moments. I’ll even include the melt-downs so he doesn’t read it one day and think he’s perfect. J Hopefully one day I’ll share some excerpts on the blog. Stay tuned!
And please tell me some of you have experienced the same thing! No? Well tell me you did anyway.