If you’re a parent, you know that kids are downright hilarious. And the beauty is, they don’t even know it. Mommies everywhere love to share their stories from the mouths of babes. After all, nothing is funnier than a toddler calling you a poo-poo face. Or repeating lyrics to a rap song at church. (We don’t listen to that, really!) I remember vividly my two-year old saying he loved my “eyebrowns”. I couldn’t bring myself to correct him. My daughter once promised to take two baths the next day, if I would just let her slide that evening.

 

I remember so many of these funny moments because I dutifully wrote them down in baby books. But then my kids got older, found friends other than me and learned to talk on a real phone. The baby books were packed away. But the truth is, my kids are as sweet, funny – and telling – as ever.

 

A few weeks ago, I was battling bronchitis. As I was stumbling around the kitchen, doing my sweep for loose homework and backpacks, bumping into walls, my now 12-year old son said, “Mom, you’re so hard to work with when you’re sick!” I had to laugh and bite my tongue from saying he is hard to work with on almost a daily basis.

 

Tonight I was tucking my now 10-year old daughter into bed, and we somehow started talking about what it will be like someday when she goes away to college. (I figure this preemptive strike might prevent the “I want to backpack around Europe instead” conversation.) She got a little weepy, as she often does, struggling between wanting to be a big girl and still wanting to be my little one. “College is a long way off,” I reassure her – secretly hoping that time will stand still. She hugged me, collected herself and said that maybe going to college – without me – would be pretty fun after all.

 

With a flip of long brown hair across her Hello Kitty pillow, my almost pre-teen announces, “When I go to college, I am going to wear high heels and as much eye shadow I want!”

 

“Sounds awesome” I reply, smiling to myself. I need to write that one down, I think. But where’s the baby book now? How do I capture this innocence? This first glimmer of rebellion?

 

How I wish today that the craziest thing my kid ever does is wear heels and a ton of eye shadow. How I wish. Tonight, I vow to write this down, maybe not in a baby book, but in a letter we can all read and laugh about one day. And I need to keep writing it all down, to capture these mother-daughter, mother-son moments that will all too soon be just a memory.

 

I hope that this blog becomes that place to capture the sweet, funny, sad, crazy snapshots of parenthood. If you’re a parent – or even if you’re not – I encourage you to write it down.

 

If you’re my daughter one day reading this, sorry, honey. And remember one of life’s important lessons: less is always more on the eye shadow thing.