Thursday, February 15, 2007

Mommy Guilt - Be gone!

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When I had Hunter, I set out to be the most perfectly perfect parent of one child that I could be. That involved talking and singing and playing classical music for baby Hunter for hours on end, poor guy. The other perfectly perfect mommies I knew, still know, also scrap booked each wonderful baby moment for their precious tykes. I could not have my precious tyke feel "less than" one day when he realized the other kids had these elaborately furnished scrapbooks documenting each month of their perfect little lives. So I would tote Hunter to the scrapbook store and find all of these wonderful papers and supplies, that were going to transform our memories into "priceless works of art". I do love the paper at the scrapbook store. The hitch came in actually making the time to put the scrapbook together. The fantasy was much better than the reality of actually doing it. So 6 years and another child later, I have officially finished Hunter's first year album, well almost. Of course, by now my tastes have changed and I'm not even that thrilled with the result. So what does one do on the eve of leaving for China to meet their 3rd child? Why of course, they scrapbook! But not the perfectly perfect kind of scrap booking that requires mounds of paper, paper cutters, stamps, glue, stickers, and of course a blow torch, but the kind I can actually do! is my new best friend. They have allowed me to unload 6 years worth of mommy guilt, all in a couple of days, and I never had to leave my house or cut one piece of paper. Hallelujah!
The finished product is a beautiful 8"x8" little book. Each one holds 65+ pictures and the kids really love them because they look like a real hardcover book, but with their big mugs on the covers and name along the spine. I ordered them last Monday and got them by Thursday. I can do this. And there is hope for Piper, that she too will have one before the end of the year. It is so much more fun than the other 50 things I have to do before next Friday.

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