My current internet obsession (should you care what your mother did in her spare time years from now) is a site called Pinterest... Pinterest allows you to virtually “bookmark” posts on web sites and view them by key image. (I’m very visual, so I love this aspect of the site.) You can sort your pins, organize your pins, share your pins and generally let your OCD run wild here. I’ve actually picked up great ideas for valentine cards, diy cleaning products, fashion inspirations for things I’ll never have the money to buy, teaching ideas, parenting ideas... and then this: A PICTURE A DAY - document your life...
WHA!?
In this post, shared by moms Pinterest wide, I could see that other parents were feeling, fearing,my same concern for the loss of their children's childhood. The feeling that life was passing us by with little to show for it save bins of outgrown clothes... and so, a picture a day.
The plan makes it clear that these don’t need to be monumental... in fact it’s probably preferable that they aren’t. We all get the cameral out at Christmas. It’s attached at our hips for birthdays... but what of the other moments? The quieter ones... the day to day stuff that makes us us and our families special? This was something that I felt I was pretty good about early on in the girls lives... but I wasn’t working and there were just two kids. Now it is possible that I go months without posting, without documenting a thing. Too much pressure to grab the good camera? Knowing that editing it all would take more time than I have? Perhaps... but what is more important that living our lives and having a little something to show for it?
And so, perhaps foolishly, I am attempting A PICTURE A DAY. Most will probably be snapped with the camera phone, since it’s alway on me. The pictures may not be of the greatest quality, but they are better than a blank page. It’s our life... one we’re intent on living... in pictures... coming soon to a blog near you.
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This little image of joy to the right is a long lost photo from a too weary work day back in December... the girls removed all stuffing from the chair and darn near peed their pants at my tired off-the-wall reaction as I casually opened the office door after a particularly obnoxious session with one of my classes. Emma later explained, as they girls re-stuffed each pillow, that these were their imaginary bubbles for a pretend bubble bath. “mommy, we knew that real bubbles on the floor would make a big mess... this is better because we can clean it all up.”
My distance from this event had dulled it a bit in my mind. I remember feeling a near uncontrollable rage at the site, shortly followed by uncontrollable remorse at my behavior. I remember feeling that somehow Emma’s brave and honest explanation of events and heartfelt apology “we are so sorry that we made this mess mommy, we will put it all back so that you will be happy again” meant that I had raised a remarkable human being while being a shit one myself. I remember debating if this was something I should write about and then feeling too ashamed. I also remember getting my period the next day...
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