A first year scrapbook is a treasure that all parents must create for their child. Yup. No guilt there. Alrighty, who wants to make two more?
My youngest, Daughter No. 5, turned five-years-old yesterday. FIVE feels BIG. I wanted to look at photographs and reminisce about her baby time. The problem is most of my younger daughters’ pictures are digital; no tangible images to flip through. Certainly nothing neatly compiled into a first year scrapbook.
Confession about first year scrapbook (s). Yes, plural.
I never made a first year scrapbook for my youngest two daughters.
My other kids were ages 8, 6, 3, and almost 2 when Daughter No. 5 was born.
Do I really need to say it? I was one busy mother! Free time was as nonexistent as my waistline. At that time my hobbies included occasional showers and sleeping. Crafting was a pain in my substantial derrière.
Young children have trouble understanding and obeying: “Mommy’s stuff. No Touching!” Scrapbooking accessories — expensive stickers, stamps, markers, and fancy paper — are just scribbling and cutting playthings to children. To top it off, my kids kept demanding to be regularly fed!
I would no more than get my crap, excuse me, precious pictures and pricey scraping tools, out and it would be time to prepare a meal. Hobbies are supposed to be relaxing and enjoyable. Having that many little kids halted that brand of fun.
What was I doing instead of making a first year scrapbook?
I spent time with my little ladies instead of scrapbooking. I snapped pictures here and there, but I did not stress out about it. My last two daughters may not have a first year scrapbook; however, those younger girls got something else instead — quality time with a more engaged mom.
With each baby, my mama skills and confidence increased. I worried less and less about documenting all of the baby of the moment’s daily accomplishments for the sack of some perfectionist ideal that I once had. I simply enjoyed those moments.
No first year scrapbook regret. That’s not entirely true.
Husband really enjoyed looking at our girls’ picture books. He worked a lot when the girls were little. He still does. He misses out on many of the daily things that I witness every day. I do regret not making the books for him.
Mommy guilt sucks.
However . . .
I could have made a first year scrapbook for each of my daughters.
Also, I could have prepared daily gourmet meals and delicious baked goodies for my family. And while I was at it, I could have taken online courses for my master’s degree.
Give it up. Do your best and forget the rest. Repeat until you believe.
Thanks for reading.
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