Mommy’s Memory Box

{adapted and updated from a post a few years back}

If you read this post,
then you remember that I’m an only child.
And if you read this post and this post, then you know that memories are something I cherish. 

And maybe that’s the reason that as a child I was obsessed with my Mom’s stories about her adventures {and mis-adventures} with her brother and sister. 

From the time they dared each other to jump off the roof so they could feel the “zi-zee’s” in their feet, to the time they convinced the neighbor girl to lick the melted Popsicle in the freezer until her tongue got stuck–these were stories I made my mom and aunt tell me over and over.

And then I remember sifting through the pages of my Mom’s high school yearbooks and photo albums time and time again.  I had those pages memorized. The page where she was pictured in her cheer leading uniform. The one where she was all dressed up for prom with her high school sweetheart. The one with her Charlie’s Angels hair do. And the one where she was riding the dirt bike in her ripped jeans.

I stared at these photos and imagined her life before being my momma.
My mom’s memories have always been special to me.
A few years ago, she had those memories in mind when she gave me one of my favorite Christmas gifts ever.
A Mommy Memory Box of my own,
so that I could begin collecting my important memories for the boys.
She even filled the box with some of the memories that she had been collecting over the years,
and I have since added a few items myself.

My baby book. Put together by my Mom.
You guys, look at the first name written as an option if I was a boy.
I didn’t discover this until Wesley was about 6 months old. Crazy huh!