Like all families out there, ours is very busy. Between all the obligations and commitments, I often worry that I’m missing important times with my family and when I see the very empty baby book that belongs to my third child, I cringe.
The poor child has no documentation of his babyhood. I know he got his first tooth around 6 months, that he crawled around 9 months (I think…) and that he walked after he was a year old. (Dropping head in shame.)
Sometimes I fight the urge to grab the thing and fill it with bogus dates just to assuage the guilt I feel about not remembering exactly when these milestones occurred.
And let’s not even talk about how much that knot tightens in my belly when I pick up the New York City phonebook of Baby Books that belongs to my first born. I visualize the future where I will be explaining to my second and third born,
“It’s not that I love you less, I just had WAY MORE TIME when I just had one baby and wasn’t running a business and volunteering for godknowswhat. I could document the exact second your brother rolled over from front to back because there was no one about to draw on their face with sharpie every time I sat down, nor were there pressing jobs that needed to be shot, edited or sent to the printer. It was just a baby with two adults hovering and staring.”
Anyway, that is why it is such a delight to be on my computer digging through the archives looking for some file and stumble upon a small session I did one afternoon 16 months ago and forgot about. He’s about 2 months here and oh so little compared to the big belly-laughing, climbing, running, starting to talk, 18-month-old that he is today.
It gives me hope that if I can ever find the time to print out all his baby photos, I will discover that he hasn’t fallen into the cracks of the Third Child Syndrome and his baby book will look like a respectable city sized phonebook.