Tim is having a guys night at the Braves game tonight, so I have the house to myself.

Confession: Sometimes when I blog while he’s gone I probably sound like I’m complaining and lonely. However, I have to admit that I usually enjoy my “lonely” nights. I’m just the kind of person that thrives on alone time. That’s how I recharge. I don’t get much alone time anymore with Jack, so it’s nice when I get it randomly.

Tonight so far I have…

– cleaned the kitchen

– put together the graduation gifts Tim is giving his High School Small Group guys tomorrow at their party

– painted my toenails

– watched trash TV (aka. Secret Life, and no, I am not a regular viewer of that show.)

– eaten my weight in junk food including but not limited to cookie dough, chips, and a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios

– dealt with the guilt of eating junk and did lunges, squats, and various arm workouts

And now, here I am blogging and sipping a nice, warm cup of tea. What a night. The only thing that is going to make it better is reading a couple chapters of my current book (Anne’s House of Dreams) curled up in bed.


But sharing the details of my Mommy’s Night In is not the reason I felt inspired to blog tonight. It was more the packing and putting together of the graduation gifts that did it. Tim has been leading this set of guys now for about 3 years, and you know time is flying if even I am in disbelief that next year these guys are going to be in college. I can’t imagine what their moms are feeling…or maybe I can…because of Facebook statuses. Ohh Facebook.

In reference to Jack, people say to Tim and I all the time, “Oh just watch! The next thing you know he’ll be _______.”

We’ve heard ’em all.

Going to school.


Dating girls.


Yes, even Getting married.

Of course my tendencies are to do the normal. [Fingers in ears] “Lalalalala! I can’t hear you!”

But tonight I started thinking, why is that? Why do we act like the future and change and growing up is such a terrible thing, such a big deal? Yes, I am going to look back and sigh and say “Oh remember when he…” was so small and did this or that. I think knowing that will help me to stay incredibly present in our moments together, because I know they are fleeting and every little minute of every little day, no matter how hum-drum it can feel, is a memory.

Just like tonight, right before Jack got ready for bed. It was about 6:30 and he was starting to get cranky. Dramatic, I like to say. Not getting his way or taking a little fall becomes a big deal when he is sleepy. He gets whiny and he gets that honestly from his Mommy.

Well he was whining at my knee because I wouldn’t let him play with Tim’s brand-spankin’-new MacBook Pro. He turned his back to my knees and leaned his head way back in 11 month old agony, exposing that cute little kissable neck. So naturally, I kissed it, and tickled his collar bone as I did. His whine turned into a giggle. So he did it again. He leaned back and I tickled and made some silly noise in his face. His giggle turned into a laugh. Next thing you know it was a game and we had leaned back, tickled and giggled for ten minutes.

Somewhere in the middle I remembered to make a memory; to tuck that smile and giggle into one of the file cabinets in my mind and save it for when he is driving my car off by himself for the first time, or stepping out to the alter to watch his bride walk down the aisle. I’m sure I’m going to be teary-eyed during those moments, just like all mothers, but I’ll have plenty of Jack Memories to look back on and smile.

I don’t want to “Lalala” my future, Jack’s future, Gummy Bear’s future, away like it is something to be dreaded. I am so excited about those times! I can’t wait to see the young man Jack is going to be when he starts High School, or the grown man he’s going to be as he holds his first child. I just want to be there beside him the whole way. Holding his hand when he needs me to, and just being a lucky spectator when he doesn’t.

So I guess that’s all I wanted to say. And since we’re friends, I mean I am writing you letters after all, so we must be friends, hold me accountable will you? If you see a memory being made and notice that I’m not fully present in the moment to recognize it, tell me to slow it down. Smell the roses, or the sweet scent of a baby’s freshly washed, pajama-clad neck. Make a moment, be it hectic, exciting, or plain old ho-hum, a memory.

One day we’re all gonna wish or be grateful that we have them.

With love, Malorie