We spent yesterday evening at my parent’s house.
At a lull in the action, I decided to look through a few old photo albums. Moments after opening the cover I was flooded with, not only my terrible fashion sense, but the memories held by the pictures…
my first dog, the playhouse my dad build that became home to a family of bunnies, the “swing as high as you can then jump off the swing set trick” (my brother’s, not mine, I was mildly on the petrified side).
Barely through the pages of my early childhood we were already smiling in the memories. And then I looked at my children who were in utter disbelief that I was ever someone other than Mom and the panic set it.
They are going to remember this. I was just as old as they are now in these photos and I remember so much.
I tried to slow my heartbeat and calm my urge to read their every book request while making homemade play-dough and booking a trip to Disney World.
If the pictures I had snapped with my iPhone today were neatly placed in albums of their childhood would they someday sit on my couch and giggle through the pages?
As my kids fought the pull of bedtime on our drive home I cataloged the day… I may have yelled get. back. in. here./down here/upstairs through gritted teeth more than once, looked at my phone instead of the pages we were coloring and sighed a dramatic sigh of relief as we entered my parents home because someone else could play Attack of the Monsters on Dora.
I was rising to a panic over the putting together of our photo album.
And then a sleepy voice from the back seat slapped me out of my stupor by calling attention to a sliver of the moon. We oohed and ahhed over how it glowed, we counted to 100 and I told my most requested Mommy Story until giggles turned into the slowed breaths of sleep.
I drove the rest of the way whispering back and forth with my teenager about girl drama and math homework,
feeling a little bit better about this album we are creating and vowing to make an even better page tomorrow.
How do you contribute to the photo album of your life?
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