Thursday, September 13, 2012


I often wonder at what age my boys will start remembering things long-term. Yes, Kendan already remembers things; I'll ask him what we did today and he'll list the events from two days prior (uhh, good job?). I am more curious as to when our daily events will become his life-long childhood memories. Sometimes the thought comes to me as a worry, usually after I've been particularly hard on my two year old for one reason or another (in my defense, he was probably being a butt head). Will my getting frustrated because he simply won't wear anything except his Batman shirt (the audacity, am I right?) be something he remembers about his childhood? My heart sinks. God, I hope not. Especially since I do actually indulge him and wash his Batman apparel non-stop! *Caution: Too few hours of sleep and no coffee for Mom may lead to emotional scarring.* Mostly I wonder when my children will remember the good things. At what age will running through the yard, blowing bubbles, singing along to "Barbara Ann", and taking daily walks be forever cemented in their memories as their "childhood"?

The thought first crept into my brain when I became pregnant with Damien. I had spent fourteen months as a mother to just Kendan. But, it wasn't going to be just Kendan and I any more. We were about to add another life to our daily life. The memories I have of just Kendan and I are absolutely irreplaceable. Over a year of teaching him things (everything!), making him laugh, cuddling him, singing to him, taking him places .... and he'll never remember any of it. One of the best times of my life, simply because he was a part of it, and he will have no memory from before his brother came along, when it was just us. Never have I cuddled and hugged and babied so much as I did during my pregnancy with Damien. As if my time with Kendan was ending. Of course, it wasn't, and I still get to make memories with him every day. I try to video and take pictures as much as possible. But, when will he begin to remember?

Now, there's Damien. I know he doesn't remember anything to date in his life, he's only seven months old. But, I'm just so aware of that fact now it hurts. He'll never remember his brother at age two. He'll never remember my rocking him or singing to him. Gritting my teeth together so hard to keep from squeezing while holding him because I'm bursting inside. He'll never remember this house (hell, Kendan will never remember this house). Or his first bedroom; Craig worked so hard to refinish that nursery. I found myself rocking Damien the other evening, looking around his room by the glow of the night light, and saying out loud "I wish you could remember your first room. I wish you could remember this moment".

I have also burdened myself with the thought that my boys will never get to experience how I feel about them because they'll never be mothers. That is not to diminish a father's love for his children; I believe it is equal but drastically different. There really isn't anything quite like a mother's love. It's just a little sad to me that my sons will never get the full scope of my feelings for them, as much as I would like them to. It's like a type of longing that will never be fulfilled. Hopefully, they will be lucky enough to have wives who are beyond in love with their children so they may witness it. But, I think this longing plays into why I am so desperate for them to remember all of the good from their childhoods, even at the youngest possible age. I want them to remember their mom as a new mom, a mom to an infant, as a fun mom, a mom who meant business, and even a mom who could break down into tears at just how overwhelming, in the best possible way, it felt to be their mother.


  1. I am a total sap...but this blog and the pictures are so perfect. Love you!

  2. Omg! Tears. Pouring. Down. My. Face.

  3. So sweet Saushan! LOVE the pictures!

  4. Wow! You about made me cry at work! You suck! But seriously, a great post!

    -Steve Weber

  5. saushan. literally tears streaking down my cheeks. you are an incredible writer, and from what i know from this blog, an insanely incredible mother whom i hope that someday i can know all of these feelings. it is in this moment after glasses of wine on a friday night, that i know i want to be a mother just like you...somewhere...somehow...oh my god. you are amazing.

    1. Thank you so much. What an incredibly sweet thing to say!!! I am sure you'll make an incredibly passionate mother. Your kids will be very fortunate!!