They won’t remember, but I will.

It’s amazing how such a short phase of life can feel like your whole life.

I’ve been alive for 34 years now. That sounds like a long time (to me). I’ve only been a mom for 4 of those years (a short time, relatively speaking). Yet those 4 years define who I am more than the 30 before.

On the flip side, my son is only 4 years old. I know that 30 years from now, he will barely even remember this short phase of his life. My most impactful years, my most treasured memories, will be forgotten by the little people in them.

They won’t remember these nights. Spencer won’t remember how much he loves “zipping pajamas” and how he begs to still sleep in the same room as his mom. He’ll forget how his sister looks around for him as soon as we wake up and starts smiling when she sees his face. Shiloh won’t remember sleeping in my arms every night, or the sound of her quiet breathing and nursing, or how I rub her fuzzy head and squeeze her chunky feet while she sleeps. My husband won’t even remember these things, because I’m the one experiencing them.

I will miss this. That’s why I take pictures and videos and fill out the baby books and write blogs. I do it because I want to bottle up this time of my life and hold onto it as long as I can. I’ve forgotten a lot of moments in my life… I never want to forget these ones.