a lesson in guilt

Bird and Bone,

It’s been awhile since I wrote. Summer hit hard. Maybe that’s a good thing, but I still feel guilty. I shouldn’t. I really shouldn’t. There have been daily trips to the pool, picnics on the beach, long walks, cinnamon rolls devoured at the farmer’s market, baseball games, a first strawberry tasting (Bird, you loved it!), and too much ice cream. My camera never made it out. At night, I am too tired to write. In the morning, I sleep in until one of you wakes me up (and then drink a whole lot of coffee).  Things have been good. And still I feel guilty. Still I wish I had taken pictures, recorded the moments.

That’s the thing about guilt – it creeps up on you when you least expect it. When you shouldn’t let it. It is an inevitable part of Motherhood. Of parenthood. When (or if), you boys have kiddos of your own, remember this  -- it really is the moments that matter. The late night ice cream eating, the too much popcorn munching, the unexpected surprise of cold beach water rushing over your toes. And  if you forget to take pictures, or are too tired to write and record – screw it. Seriously.  And instead curl up on the couch with your kids and eat an ice cream sandwich.

I love you both more than baseball games, coffee, and ice cream sandwiches.