The holidays are rushing fast toward us again. This time of year always gets me thinking back over my life. Childhood memories and traditions. Years when my girls were little. Happy holiday memories that CBG and I have made in our 9 years together.
This year, the nostalgia is even stronger. I’ve been working on a special Christmas gift for my daughters; a book filled with cute stories from when they were little. It’s a project I’ve had in mind for years now, and have never undertaken it. I decided that this is The Year.
We have a lot of funny little stories that I tell the girls from when they were small. They love hearing them, over and over again. After all, who doesn’t want to hear about how smart, funny and adorable they were when they were young?
Fortunately for me, this task has been made a fair bit easier. Of course, I have this blog, with tales that date back to early 2009. Before that, when I was pregnant, through to when my girls were toddlers, I kept journals, filled with my thoughts on motherhood, and lots of stories about my daughters, after they were born. I was reading through those old journals last night, pulling out little tales and writing them down in a bit more of a story form.
Many of these stories were things that I’d completely forgotten – as one does in life. I found myself giggling out loud at their antics; it is so amazing that their personalities really started forming when they weren’t even walking yet. I also felt more than one pinch in my heart, as I realized that I miss those days. Not all of it, of course, and not that I would wish myself back there, but there is a definite ache there. There’s nothing like the smell of a newborn or a gummy baby smile or seeing your little one walk for the first time.
I love my girls. I love the age they’re at now, challenges and all, but there is a part of me that misses the little people that they were back then. I’m really grateful that I wrote those stories down – it’s like having them back with me again, just for a little while.