memories ... light the corners of my mind

(note: i totally had to look up the lyrics to "the way we were" for the title of this post and, as always, was surprised to learn i've been singing the wrong words all these years.  chris would not be surprised.)

during dinner a few nights ago, we somehow started talking about the kids' first birthdays.  if chris were here next to me he'd be able to remind me how we got on the subject; alas, he's not, so i'll sit here trying to remember how it all came about even though it's really not important.  regardless, our children, like all children (and, really, all adults), love to hear about themselves when they were younger.  they hang on my every word, even if it's not at all interesting.  "and then, you would roll over on those chunky baby thighs and go to sleep," i could say, and their eyes would twinkle and they'd laugh and ask me to tell them more.  "and you'd just sleep and sleep all night," i could continue, and they'd still be mesmerized, peppering me with questions.

so we were recounting liam's second birthday during our dinner the other night, describing who was there and where it was and what we ate.  "he was wearing that blue and white checked outfit, right?" chris asked.  and i didn't even have to think about it -- i knew he wore that outfit, not because of my stellar memory (which has already been discounted), but because we have pictures of it.  and more than just pictures, we have scrapbook pages of it.  i'd like to pat ourselves on the backs and marvel at how our minds are like steel traps even at the ripe old ages of 36*, but that's not the case.  we remember it because we documented it.

it makes me wonder if we remember the Big Events of Our Lives because they were indeed Big ... or do we remember them because we have visual evidence that they occurred?  tangible proof that we can hold in our hands and help us relive?  pictures we can pass around as we reminisce, details on the glossy paper that trigger memories in our mind we would otherwise forget?

all of this was going through my mind that night at the dinner table.  while i half-listened to chris describing to susanna what her first birthday cake looked like (which is prominently featured in her scrapbook spread of may 2007, natch) my mind was focusing on our blog, because i haven't posted nearly as often as i'd like as of late.  despite having this newfound "freedom" afforded to mothers as they send their youngest off to kindergarten, i've been stretched much too thin with a new 40-hour a week work schedule that i'm somehow trying to squeeze into the 35 hours a week that they're in school, while also doing volunteer work and laundry and bible study and grocery shopping.  i'll try to make a mental note of something to include in our blog, but by bedtime, i've stared at the computer screen for far too long that day already and collapse on the pillow without even pulling up our page.  and i'm already kicking myself mentally on behalf of my future self, who won't have a page in the 2011 blog book to read to remind myself of exactly how susanna's first day of gymnastics went, or the kids' impromptu dance party i stumbled upon, or the hilarious-but-totally-awkward conversation we had on the way to school last week with our neighbor that somehow connected a barbecue restaurant with a dog and our nickname for girls' private parts.  (well.  on second thought, i might not have actually written about that.  but trust me, it was funny.)

so.  the house renovation is done (pictures coming soon), the school year is in full swing, and our lives are back to normal a new normal.  the routine has returned, and hopefully, the blog has too.  because if it doesn't, we may just have a difficult time remembering anything about 2011.

* i originally posted this stating our ages as 37.  i just realized that we are both still 36.  and now i'm starting to wonder seriously about alzheimer's.