Will I Be Able To Remember All This?

I'm a big fan of Anna Quindlen and have several of her works, compilations of past columns and her more recent books. One of the things I envy about her is that she is recording her life lessons for her kids. They will always have a written record of the things she has learned in life and the wisdom she has to impart. She will never have to worry if she remembered to tell them everything. Whether they choose to read it or heed it is not the point. It's there. In print. When my daughter was born, I inevitably started thinking about the aspects of my life and personality aspects that I wanted to share with her. The traits I hoped she'd inherit and those that I thought I'd do my damnedest to not pass on. But how do you remember everything? I could get hit by a bus any day and have I impressed upon her enough that, most times-- always?-- it's better to believe in yourself at the risk of going against the crowd?

My mother-in-law started telling her at a very, very young age (2 weeks, maybe?), "Question authority." I love this. It's quick, easy, wise, and highly memorable. I need to start making up some of those myself. I can turn them into little family sayings-- something besides "you can't always get what you want" (yes, think Rolling Stones) which seemed to be the mantra as we navigated the treacherous waters of 4-years-old, now much better at 5. Then maybe I can just jot them down finally and tuck them away somewhere safe.

And I'd also like to start recording the things my daughter says. All those gems she imparts in such a way that only a little tyke can but that make perfect sense. A lot to be learned there, in-between the pint-sized tyrant proclamations. My current favorite is the word "puffy." We try not to use the word "fat" in our house because I think it's just plain unkind. So, instead, my daughter came up with the word "puffy" to describe people of a more generous bearing. I love it! Because it's so descriptive. Because it's so neutral in terms of judgment. Try it, you might like it.

So, I feel a bit like time's a wastin' here. My daughter is now five and I've been a cliche-laden wreck. Where has the time gone? They grow old so fast... Pretty soon she'll be a teenager... so, for the time being, I keep grabbing my camera and hope that I can capture just a bit of the ephemera.