Growing Pains

I'm so glad I have this blog. It's sad that I don't use it more often to purge my soul. My old journal is such a treasure to me now of stories and events from our baby days. To be able to look back and read about so many insignificant events from our daily lives is something very sweet. You forget about all of the booboos, the milestones, etc. Just this past weekend, I found the first 5 years of my previous journal that I printed before I closed it. At first, I was just cleaning out a trunk. The next thing I knew, I was crying and laughing while I read about Sophy's first cookie and the boy's first fishing experience. Those baby days are gone so fast, yet they seem like they're creeping when they're upon you. Our babies all came so close together, that it seemed like we had babies for 5 years. About the time one made a little progress, another was born. Then another. There are great spans of time that I don't even recall. That is too sad. I wouldn't want to forget any of those moments, and yet here I sit with the perfect tool to record more of our lives...and I simply don't do it. I'm going to try to be better. Maybe one entry a week. That's a good start. 20 entries a day wouldn't cover the stories of our lives at this point, but I have to record these days. Someone, if not myself, will be so happy to have them down the road. It's all golden, and there has to be enough time in my day to cherish and record it all. Sigh. I'm waxing sentimental here, but I don't care. Reading through my old journal really snapped some life back into my blogging desire. For corn's sake, it would be a tragedy to not remember how big Sam's eyes were this evening when he asked me if germs cried. Why, I asked, would germs ever cry? Because, he said, they're like bad guys, and that has to make them really sad when they think about it. Or Sophy sighing while she watches her daddy and says, Mom, my daddy sure is cute.
Sniff, sniff.