So I try to make these everydays count. To parent and live deliberately. To be present, and to make ordinary things extraordinary, the regular somehow special. And when it comes to the holidays, I try and make new traditions for our family and create warm memories that Hank and Henry can carry with them as time goes on. Sometimes it's the little things- like the other night when we were all crying from laughing so hard, and every time one of us would crack a smile it would throw all of us into a terrible fit of giggles once again. Or tonight, when it was just Henry and me cuddled up on the couch watching old Christmas movies and eating sweets. He looked up at me and said two words so simply- "I'm happy." These are those days that become so much more.
And it's the big moments too- picking out Halloween costumes, our annual birthday morning surprises, putting up our Christmas tree every year. And it's those special times like our evening at the Polar Express last weekend- Henry's very first train ride. Nothing will ever compare to the moment when he looked at both Hank and I and said, "I RIDE THOMAS!" with the biggest grin spreading across his face.
In a way Hank and I are getting to relive our childhood all over again; we're able to revisit our own memories, dip into the nostalgia we both feel for times gone, and make them fresh again with our son. Isn't that one of the best parts of parenting? To be able to make a choice that you'll do things differently this time around, or in lucky cases, do things in exactly the same ways you experienced as a child.
It's amazing to think of our children's memories as blank canvases. We are the creators. We make these days count. We have a lot of roles as parents, but the maker of memories is one to be taken so seriously, and I hope one day Henry can look back and feel warm, and happy, and know he was so very loved.