current location: office
current mood: nostalgic
In preparation for opening a family biz next Fall (a preschool/daycare) I have been reading a lot of business books lately. A question in one of them gave me pause. It was the book, SMALL BUSINESS, BIG LIFE and the question was: If you knew you only had 24 hours to live, what would you regret not having done?
I know the PC writer answer would probably be: "I'd regret not writing a Pulitzer-prize winning book" or some such thing. Not so much. The thought, "Not seeing more of the world" flitted across my mind, for just a brief moment. But the thought that really stuck was, "Not making Zachary a baby album."
Not that Catie's is finished, mind you, and she's almost 5. But at least I have an album for up to her 1st birthday. Zachary's I haven't even begun to create, and the child is already 2.
Should I die tomorrow, I would really want him to have a little book he could hold in his hands and know his mommy loved him enough to select those photos and write those words. That I made a little tribute to him -- his first words, first steps, first years of life. I would want him to see my handwriting all over the pages.
I actually don't like scrap booking. Blank white pages worry me. There are too many possibilities. And I am a perfectionist. I actually enjoy ediitng first drafts of scrap books much more than I enjoy creating the durn things in the first place. I think most of all, I don't like the visual reminder that time is marching on. I am getting older. I don't feel it, but I must be, because my children are growing older. They are no longer chubby fisted babies with wisps of curly hair.
I didn't hold them enough.
And now they won't let me. They are too big to fit in my lap, too busy to stop and rest there anyway. Except for the occasional sweet pit stops made by Zachey, for a book or a hug or a kiss on an "owie."
(The back story here is that the little man just ten minutes ago came bounding into the office. he wanted to sit on my lap so I let him and you know what? He pressed some key and all my journalling disappeared. Yep. True story. So this is Draft #2 and he's been banished from the office. So I'm not all sweet nostalgic momma, right now I'm a little bit fuming momma.)
But I have determined that I need to bite the bullet and pull out the tape runner and the blue gingham paper and stickers and markers and the (ack!) worrisome blank white pages and make the child an album. I may/may not finish Catie's first. The truth is, we think we have all the time in the world left. But we just can't know. So a scrapbooking I will be here...for a while...hopefully....