Tales of old

How often do I hear my mother tell stories about me as a baby or a little girl?  A lot. Over the years, there are the occasional new stories, but for the most part, it is the same few stories repeated with as much enthusiasm as if it were being told for the first time. I admit, my first response is usually, "oh not again."

And finally, now that I have my own child, I get it.  As a mother, there are moments in your child's life that only you will experience.  Whether it's the first time your baby wraps his delicate, but surprisingly strong, fingers around yours.  Or the moment you raised a spoon of "whatever puree" to your baby's mouth and watched his expression of tasting something other than breast milk for the first time in his life. Those are your moments.  And unfortunately, you will be the only one who remembers them. 

These moments I had with my son, though experienced not long ago, are already treasured memories.  One day, it will be my turn to look back and in an attempt to relive those moments again, I will be telling (and retelling) my grown son these stories.

Already I've been sharing my "favorites" with friends.

Connor is at the age of crawling.  He hasn't quite mastered doing it on his knees yet.  He, more or less, shimmies on his tummy - pushing off with his feet.  My husband calls it the "commando crawl."  One day, Connor and I were on the floor and he started to shimmy away from me.  He got about 3 feet when I grabbed both of his ankles and pulled him back towards me.  That didn't stop him - he just started crawling again.  Again, at about 3 feet, I pull him back to me.  And again, he started crawling away from me.  By this time, I wanted to see how many times we would play this game.  Once more I pulled him back to me.  This time, he paused for a short moment, and then started flapping both arms and kicked legs, and let out a whine of frustration.  It was hilarious.

I may have told this story once or twice... but it was a wonderful little moment I shared with my son, and I want to relive it over and over.  I've become my mother.