Past Glory

As a matter of course, I get sentimental. So I started reading my posts from the beginning. At first I was looking for photos. Anything to see babies again, now that I've mostly forgot the daily agony and only remember (if by choice) the smallness and cuteness that is intrinsic to a new member of the human race. In the beginning, pictures were rare. There is one a month or thereabout. What caught my eye was the prolific typing. What captured my interest was the inane details that I needed to share with the world; how many loads of laundry were conquered, what floors were mopped, what type of lunch detritus was scoured from the table, chairs and floor. It occurs to me that I do not do very much housework like I did back in the day of mewling babies and tiny toddlers. Are we living in squalor? No (usually). Am I more proficient at my housework? No (at least not from practice). Is it getting easier? A hesitant "yes" is in order here. Also, there doesn't seem to be as much to share. Now that both girls are wonderful conversationalists, I am able to get some words out during the day instead of having it all dammed up inside, needing some sort of outlet. I guess what I am saying, Internet, is that I've outgrown the daily missive. Or at least the need for one. And there were naps.

Naps time started off split between the girls, like they had discussed some time sharing of Mama and the agreement was so that one of them was always asleep, to insure one on one parental time. Mary slept from 10-12, Emma from 1-4, Mary from 4-6. There was an allowable 1 hour crossover for meal purposes, apparently. With one child, I was able to do a chore here and there, so that all day I was parenting AND cleaning. And don't forgot the laundry. And the two children in diapers. And the feeding (I was nursing one of them). I was VERY busy. Then came a blissful period of coinciding nap times. THEN I got a lot done. Now, Emma is determined to give up all sleeping, especially the type that occurs when others are awake. And when Mary is asleep, Emma needs a playmate. I get NOTHING done. It does not matter what "quite" activity she tries, it must always involve me. And, Mary is potty training. That means hours lost in a small room with porcelain fixtures. Because, at the beginning, the new potty world cannot be experienced on your own: a parent must attend.

So, with this new found conversation during the day, potty training time, and lack of children napping together, I find myself happy to click a pic and send it to the blog. Titles, now, are supposed to convey volumes of information. "Birthday Bike" means, 'here is Mary a t the toy store with the bike she has picked out since she is turning 3 on Saturday'. "On the Plane" means, 'here we are, Mary and me, sitting in first class eating pretzels together and me reading my book while we fly the friendly skies on the way home from Minnesota'. "At the Zoo" means,'here are the girls, with their cousin Katelyn and their second cousin Darrrell, who met us at the zoo with Mum and Papa, looking at bald eagles and marveling at all of the wild (in captivity) animals while I went and ran 2 miles around the zoo'. All of that is what I am thinking when I click a picture and send it here, Internet. I think, 'here you go, Friends. Here is a speck of my life and I want you to see it and share it with you. I send it to you with the best intentions of writing more later, yet I know I will not really write more later, so please forgive my brevity and smile at my children and poignant moments.' Surely that's what you see, too. I hope you are not too disappointed when you come to my site and see another outtake of my day.

As for the archives, I need to figure out how to save them at home. I highly recommend wasting some time on them. I think I had a great sense of humor about the daily grind. I also think I wrote well, or at least better than I do now. Maybe it is my own sentiment getting in the way, but you may enjoy some old posts. I may even do a regular "Blast from the Past" and repost old ones that I found particularly funny. It's not cheating, really. I'll still send pictures.