I write a letter to each of my boys at the end of every month. In the letter I tell them about all of the fun outings we have been on during the month; all the people, places and things that we have seen. Writing my monthly letters serves two purposes; 1) to keep an historical record of their childhood and 2) let them know how much I thoroughly enjoy being their mom.
I shy away from writing too much about the negative (yelling, fights, temper tantrums) but focus more on the quality time that we spend together. I would rather they remember the good times and not the bad when they are older and reminiscing (hopefully with their own kids one day) about things like our trips to Greenfield Village, the science centers or the zoo. I wish I had kept a running tally of how many times we have actually ridden in the Model T cars at Greenfield Village. No one would believe us!
Every once in awhile I get a little down on myself for thinking that I didn't give Christoper the attention I should have when he was animatedly explaining his play date to me or when Nicholas asks for a long bedtime story and I'm trying to convince him that the shorter one is better. The easiest way to get out of that slump is to sit down and read my letters. Page after page describes from the day they were both born how we have spent our days engaged and totally captivated by one another.
I'm not quite sure how so many months and years have passed by already. We were all driving in the car the other day and Nicholas wrote something on his hand with a marker. Mark told Nicholas not to write on his hand with a marker and Nicholas said, "well...you did it Dad." (My husband was on the phone with a customer and needed to write a number down really quick and didn't have any paper. So he wrote on his hand.) Anyway, I said to my husband, "I guess he got you on that one." We had a good chuckle and I said, "really, what do expect a 4-year-old to do?..I mean a 5-year-old...wait a minute...holy crap...he's six!" I laughed when I realized that I still think Nicholas is four or at the very oldest five. I haven't quite grasped the fact yet that he is 6-years-old. It's too mind-boggling.
I sat down with Nicholas the other day and thought it might be fun to read some of his letters together. I did not even get through the first page because the tears were streaming too hard down my face. Just starting off telling Nicholas about the night of his birth brought back so many incredible memories. Hopefully, one day we can get through some more of his letters together without my waterworks display. I don't really see that happening, but I can only hope.
People tell me all the time to enjoy every age and stage because it all goes by so fast. Fast doesn't even begin to describe it. I blinked my eyes and my babies are little boys...no longer babies or even little toddlers. Little boys with boy faces. If I didn't have pictures of Nicholas and Christopher's chubby baby cheeks I might not ever remember them.
But, I have my letters to take me back to those days of first smiles and first steps. I have my letters to remind me that Nicholas used to say "moozget" instead of "music." I have my letters to tell me again how Christopher used to sing "The Owl and the Pussycat" with the sweetest, most angelic voice you have ever heard.
Whenever I get nostalgic about the past I just need to remind myself that I am really looking forward to reading the letters of our stories yet untold.