Little Bug Friday: the non-memory keeper’s daughter

April 11, 2008 at 4:39 pm | Posted in little bug, Uncategorized | 2 Comments
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I let other people take pictures at weddings. If I remember, months later I’ll nag them for prints. I didn’t own a camera, in fact, until I got pregnant. While Little Bug’s first month produced a flurry of pictures, not only have they now trickled off at an alarming pace, but I often don’t get around to uploading them for weeks. We only have a baby book because Tim insisted, and he filled out most of it. I’ve updated it only once since. We bought a video camera when the baby was six months old and now have a whopping 12 minutes of footage.

This is not to say that I don’t appreciate other people’s efforts on the memory-keeping front. I love looking through my friends’ well-kept photo albums and always have loved pouring over my own baby book (in which my mom meticulously recorded my height, weight, meals, babbles, birthday parties, and report cards.) But at this point I feel like I’m so far behind, it’s too difficult to catch up. I mean, there already were six months of the baby’s life that we didn’t record on camera, and even if I did try to go back and fill in her baby book, how can I remember today what milestones she was hitting six weeks ago? I feel guilty about this, of course, especially when last night, as we were getting into bed, Tim said to me, “Remember when our Little Buggy used to be all swaddled up?” and you know what? I barely can. 

I’ve truly never had the patience to make photo albums or to corral people into group shots at events: I leave that to others. Recently, a list-serve I belong to for Boston moms had a dicussion about the best way to preserve children’s artwork, and just thinking ahead to that made me anxious. But am I short changing my baby in some way in that she’ll never have tangible proof of her infanthood? Do I try to play catch up, or do I accept that I’m just not very good at memorializing life’s rich pageant?

So, all this being said, I hope at least this blog will be a small forum for keeping track of my child’s miraculous growth. Today’s nine-month pediatrician’s appointment chronicled: 2.5 teeth, 17.5 lbs., 28.5 inches. Apparently it’s OK that she’s no longer interested in her bottle, veggies, or anything except Cheerios (aka, crack for babies) and applesauce and bananas. The picture above proves that her hair is still out of control and she’d still rather try to stand up than nap (and was caught in the act!)

Baby crack (Pictured, left:  baby crack)

Rest assured:  By no means do I purport to create a “mommy blog” — a body of “work” with which I’m becoming increasingly familiar. Recently I discovered the hilarious (and yet alarming) blog, Dooce, whose writer — and her husband — have been able to quit their regular jobs thanks to the advertising the blog somehow pulls in (guess they’ve moved beyond Google Ads?). In fact, a WSJ profile yesterday estimated her ad revenues at $40,000 a month. Hmmmm.


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  1. OHMAHWURD, that baby is delectable! And here I post about my scrumptious baby and yet, you have a delicious baby with the same hair as mah bebe.
    That said, I, too am a, horrible, horrible “memory keeper” for my kids. I have three half-assed scrapbooks for them, three quasi-filled in baby books and absolutely nothing for baby #4. Am cosntantly trying to take piccies, but baby just runs away.
    Oh, and also, I came here via the Dooce link. Am v, v, disappointed to read that article because as a freelance journalist, I don’t get paid 1/8, accch, 1/16th that much to write a well anecdoted, researched article for a real magazine each month. Sad, really.

  2. This child is so perfect, there are no words. She is a precious little muffin, a little angel in a white onesie. And her bedhead is the icing on the muffin. I’m sorry, I meant to post a response to your memory-keeper’s dilemma, but I just can’t think of anythng else but this little peanut. I’m going to stop now. I’m embarrassing myself.

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