Promiscuous Promises


I have inevitably become the mother I swore I never would.  Feel free to gasp appallingly here, I know I did.

I am acutely aware of the fact that time passes and all too quickly a moment becomes a memory.  As a result, I am that person who is overly obsessed with the camera; an avid scrap booker, incessant journal keeper and consistent picture taker.  Always trying to seize the moment and subsequently drive everyone insane.

Enter baby books.  Not just baby books; I am sure my fellow memory holder on-ers can relate to taking it to the next level, so also enter pregnancy journals.  I started this with my first born.  When I was pregnant with my second I swore that she would have the same: a pregnancy journal and a baby book.  Along came number three, same concept.  Then four and eh, I tried.  Then five and, crap, forget about it.

I never wanted to be the mother whose first born had things her fifth born did not: like a baby book and pregnancy journal full of memories.  I already feel intensely guilty that my third child had his first hair cut at Sports Clips sans “First Haircut Certificate.”  To be honest, I just didn’t want to spend the money the third time.  However, that dang mom guilt got the best of me and I forked over the dough for my fourth and fifth.  Now my poor middle child is the only one without all that first hair cut memorabilia.  Of course I snapped the obligatory before, during and after pictures.  I hope that is enough.  I hope he does not look through his baby book and realize that his is the only one minus a fancy “First Haircut Certificate” and subsequently feel inferior to his siblings.  Maybe I should just get a 600th haircut certificate for him.  This is how the mom guilt rolls, y’all.

Anyway, in true Rebel Housewife fashion, I digress.  Back to my original point.

I am now the mom who does not keep up on baby booking.  I have just run out of time.  I have been consumed by child rearing, diaper changing, nap schedules, feeding times, working, chores, and the occasional shut eye that I forgot about the baby books…

…until I saw them stacked neatly in my nightstand drawer.

I bought my baby girl a baby book, hell bent on keeping up with it, but, alas, it is empty.   Insert tear emoji here.

So today, I am putting everything on hold: house cleaning {don’t worry hubby, laundry is loaded and dishes are washing}, meal planning and book writing {but not blogging, apparently}.

My crew is quietly and cooperatively playing hide and seek {I am sure I will pay for that camaraderie later} and I am going to take advantage of the situation.  I am keeping my promise and will catch up on baby booking.  I imagine the “firsts” section will be more like a “this happened around” section, but I am gonna fill in those blanks.

Excuse me while I rack my brain and catch up on memories.

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