The Creation of Memories

I'm not sure if this is a selfless or selfish thing, but as a mother I am trying to create some really fun and happy moments in my Small Human's life. The moment you decide to become a parent, this is the first romanticized thing that occurs to you. You will be responsible for someone's life, their very first early memories, especially in the beginning. You help to contribute to their (hopefully) happy memories of their entire childhood. So much of it is up to you, because it's your job to show them all the cool and interesting things the world has to offer. Don't get me wrong, I'm not interested in manufacturing or forcing happiness, trying way too hard and never living up to my own expectations of what being a good parent is, it's just something I think about.

I've been wanting to take Small Human through a car wash, because I just know he'd get such a kick out of it. (That, and our car has been filthy for a month.) He's been through a few before he was two, but this was before his awareness of machines and moving parts and his new found love for them. When we finally arrived at our destination, he was fast asleep, and I was pretty disappointed. What a silly thing to feel though, in hindsight. Was I making this about me? Checking off a list of happy memories to create? We ended up waking him up, but he woke up on his own when he heard the power washer blast the windows around him with a jet of water. I was right, he did totally love it and wouldn't stop talking about the "car washing machines" and how loud and wet they were, for the rest of the day.

I know the most important thing is for a child to grow up in a household full of laughter and love, discipline and direction, and that I don't have to work so hard to create memories. In my gut I know they will come about naturally just from the day to day happenings, but if it also brings me joy to try and find things he might love, why not?

Life with a toddler can be so life draining and frustrating sometimes, especially now that I'm this enormous, hormone-filled pregnant woman, but I still love being his momie. I have never cared so deeply about anything else I have ever done in my life. It's easy to forget that these days will be my memories one day too. One day, even the worst tantrums will fade to a sepia in my mind. I'd like to remember what was real, and that when stripped of all the motherly stress and worry, I was truly and honestly happy.

Most days while I drink my coffee, he reads quietly