...used to warrant its own blog post.
Zack has moved out of a high chair and up to the table, and finally uses a regular cup without spilling. In his little life, it's been a very big deal. He's insanely proud of himself, and is being so careful (very un-Zack-like).
But I pretty much don't do that anymore-- the blogging thing. The whole "three-kids-under-five" situation turns out to be pretty time-consuming. And most of the time, I'm at peace with it. Everything has a season, right? I don't have to beat myself up if I don't blog for the rest of my life.
But then, on nights like tonight, I get caught up reading old posts. Brady's first words. Zack's sleeping battles. Details of past trips and birthdays and random weekends. All the little details that are both so important and so easy to forget. I'm so glad I wrote them down at the time, and a little sad that I haven't done more of it recently. I mean, what if I forget that a few nights ago, Zack asked me what I was making for dinner. And when I told him, he broke into a perfectly improvised rendition of Little Drummer Boy-- "I don't like chili, pa rum pa pum pum!"
Or how Brady was driving me absolutely nuts today-- taunting Zack, tossing attitude, not listening-- and then when I laid down with him after naptime, he told me I was the best mommy there ever was?
Or how Sara expresses happiness and love by literally trying to eat you? How she puts her chubby little hands on my face and tries to shove me in her mouth?
Maybe I need to get back at it.
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