#makingmemories

It’s not a #momfail, I told myself.

Checking Facebook to see what’s trending, to make sure I’m not missing some major world event, I realize that my feed is full of pictures of my friends’ kids . . . kids on their first day of school. Hey, it’s the first day of school for my kids, too, I thought.

But I forgot to take a picture.

We can’t re-wind our way to the morning to re-capture the moment. It was great to see our kids come into the kitchen to eat the potato cakes their dad had made the night before just so the morning would not be so chaotic. We actually sat down for a few moments at the table, the four of us.

We are still in the midst of transition, and routine will surely find us, however hectic it might be. New town, new church, new school, new family structure (with big kids in a different town at a familiar school). We are finding our way, but there will be some moments that come and go without finding their way onto social media or into our camera roll.

I tell my kids we’re “making memories” when we are doing something that they’re not particularly fond of, like hiking through a rainstorm or taking a bumpy ride in a crowded van. We are, indeed, making many memories these days, but to make a memory, you have to fully notice the moment–touch, taste, smell, and see it as much as possible. For me, that’s going to mean more often than not that I don’t have a camera or phone in hand. It means that I’m going to be laughing, crying, moving, being in the moment. It also means that I’m going to look back on it an hour, days or years later and smile because I was so full of life and love, even if it was painful.

We said we would take a 2nd day of school picture but forgot that, too. The morning and afternoon drop-offs are stressful right now, to say the least. So for all the parents and friends who managed to remember the photos, you are awesome. Please keep sharing. For those of us who didn’t, we didn’t fail, even if we feel like we missed an opportunity. We’re making memories, after all, and those memories usually come with any number of stories to share later.

Keep making memories.

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Memories Remembered

It could be that the life you lead today is much like the one you grew up with.  School, work, shopping, entertainment, shuttling kids hither and yon.

I remember sitting at the edge of my mother’s bed while she was messing around in her closet, perhaps hanging laundry.  She said she could see me living in a fancy house, decorated just so.  I’d probably marry a white-collar guy (my words, not necessarily hers).  Did she know or just hope that my life would be different?

I hadn’t realized that I was beginning to forget some of my childhood memories until I saw a movie this weekend, Winter’s Bone.  No, I didn’t grow up in a meth-using family, but I did grow up in a rural environment (and many family vacations were spent in Branson, where the movie was filmed).  Part of my childhood was in Southwest Missouri, too, on my grandparent’s farm.  I would go to the sale barn on weekends, sometimes get treated to a Frito-pie and a coke (which is what all carbonated beverages are called around here, even if it’s not a Coke).  I couldn’t hear anything much over the auctioneer, “yep”ping farmers and traumatized animals.  It was Saturday entertainment to me, though I wasn’t aware it was a means of survival to others.

We also hunted chicken eggs in obscure places when the hens rebelled against the coop.  I have to admit I let my little brother reach his hand into the darkness between the stacked hay bales more often than I would.  There were snakes, too, of course.

At a family friend’s dairy farm, we hopped from bale to bale over the circular mounds.  The dark pits between went straight to hell, I was told.  You wouldn’t want to fall!

Today there are chain stores and strip malls on what was pasture.  Our communities have grown with each new subdivision.  But downtown there are signs of the past.  In the still-small communities, there are the boarded up shops and abandoned homes.  I’ll have to remember to air out my own memories every once in a while, lest they, too, be neglected or worse . . . forgotten.

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Makin’ Memories

Remember me sharing that we went for a hike a couple of weeks ago, stopping by the pottery shop afterwards?  It rained on that hike, especially hard when we actually got to the waterfall.  My kids are still residually snotty from their colds, but I wouldn’t trade that day with family and friends for anything.

This morning I made one of our not-too-frequent stops by our local bread shop, taking the younger two with me to pick up a breakfast sandwich, chocolate muffin,  raspberry scone (the raspberries make it healthy, right?), and bread, of course.  My four-year-old loves “the stone place” (it’s called Stonemill Bread), and I love the feeling of supporting our local business, sharing the morning with my little kids and eating some great food.

Both of these experiences remind me that I’m making memories each moment of my life.  Even as I’m here typing (after taking a break for nursing someone that needed a moment of attentive loving and then having a quick IM chat with my mom), I know I’m making a choice to nurture myself by writing and sharing with you.

The main point is that everything we do is significant, from helping the stranded guy at the post office by offering a jump since you have the cables (which happened last night) to taking the kids to school every weekday.  In every moment we have the opportunity to affirm life and love, to share in our abundance.

Do you have a gratitude journal?  Have you considered how blessed you are to have this day to make new memories?  The best way to assure you’ll continue to have abundance is to give thanks for all that you have.  So, give thanks and then make some new memories.

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