But I’ve never been one for baby books. I love the idea, and I know that when my boys are grown and gone I’ll wish I wrote down every lost tooth, first haircut, first step, first word, etc.
Some of you are likely gasping in horror to discover I haven’t done that. I gasp in horror myself if I think about it too much. But I quickly discovered early in my motherhood that if I held as my ideal the maintenance of a baby book, I would never write anything down, and certainly not in a timely manner. My way of remembering things is writing a quick key word on a scrap of paper (Post-It, bill envelope, napkin) and then hoping I’ll remember where I put it when it comes time to do something with it. If I pinned my hopes on a baby book, I know what would happen—those napkins and post-its would pile up in the pages of the book itself, if I remembered to put them there when I wrote them, and then when I went to organize them and write down the details in the appropriate spots in the baby book (which are never big enough for wordy me), I’d quail at the enormity of the task—I’d immediately feel exhausted, close the book with its papers still inside, and put it away for another day.
My point in saying all this is: this column has been such a blessing for me. This is my favorite medium, and one of my very favorite pastimes—prose, about my kids, with a deadline. That deadline is so important for me—it ensures I gather up all my little napkin notes in a timely manner and put them all together in a story that I know I’ll want to read over and over when I’m no longer the mother of young children.
Perhaps I won’t have remembered to record every milestone, but I will have a monthly record of my boys’ childhoods, as seen through the eyes of a mother who tries to remember the most important details: who my children are, what their wonderful attributes are, the ways I see them growing, the marks I see them already leaving on the world and the joy they’ve brought to me and others.
This all also helps to explain why the story I want to share with you today isn’t anything profound—just an hour’s worth of time some of the boys and I spent together that I hope never to forget:
Thomas had a baseball game recently on a chilly, cloudy day. I might normally try to psych myself up to bring the boys into the park so they could run around during the game, but this day was not a good outside day for little ones, in the opinion of the mom who just wanted to stay warm in the van with her travel mug of coffee and not have to have eyes on all sides of her head so she could watch the game and the other boys all at the same time.
“You don’t need shoes,” I told the other boys, when we were getting ready to go, so they trooped outside in their bare feet … and a Darth Vader mask on one boy, red capes on two of the others, light sabers in all their hands. Of course everything’s more fun in costume.
At the game, the middle three were deep into their imaginations for a good while. “Lord Vader,” one boy solemnly addressed the one with the Darth Vader mask. Cars coming down the road behind where we were parked caused them to yell, “Watch out for the TIE Fighters.” every time one sped by us. There was battling with light sabers and the sounds of intergalactic blasters made by little boy mouths with uncanny accuracy.
The baby and I shared a snack while Star Wars played out in the back of the van. Watching Taddy eat something he’s excited about is one of my favorite things—his eyes get big and he practically shudders with happiness, and his mouth does this little bird-beak thing while he chews with his front teeth (the only teeth he has).
Thomas has been hitting really well lately, so his every at-bat was a thrill, and Taddy clapped and clapped with me.
I had paper and crayons and pencils in the “game bag,” and when Star Wars had played itself out, there was drawing and writing. Gabe wrote a poem for me, one of the best things he’s ever given me—I laugh every time I read it:
Deer: Mom
I love you so
better than a mo.
I wish you wer better
but you are just the way you are.
Oh Mom this is the best day ever
you are best but God is better.
love Gabriel Sherwin Oh and plese give me cookies
This is the kind of stuff I want to remember forever, but what baby book would have a space for all that happened in this one hour?
This month marks five years since I started this column, and I’m constantly grateful for the space, the motivation, and the opportunity to write down all these important things for myself, my own posterity, and those of you who have been kind enough to let me know you enjoy reading about the antics of my boys. I hope you all have a wonderful Mother’s Day, and here’s to another five years.
Kate Towne Sherwin is a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) living in Saratoga Springs with her husband and their sons Thomas (8), Gabriel (6), John Dominic (4), Xavier (3), and Thaddeus (16 months). She can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
