So I was thinking about a few of my favorite things.
While raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens are fine, they don’t do much for me personally.
Instead, I like to write. I like words. I like fonts. I like handwriting. I like letters. And the smell of paper. And memories.
Enter: these two journals.
These seemingly insignificant books are my, “brown paper packages tied up with string.”
They’re a couple of my most favorite things.
I received the pink one as a gift from my best friend in 2007. She found it one day and knew that I’d like it. (I’m a journal person.) And she gifted it to me for my birthday.
For some reason, I never wrote in it. I was subconsciously saving it for a special occasion. I mean, it CLOSES with a ribbon. That is fancy. The journal was blank for quite a while…
That all changed on October 17th, 2008… the day I found out I was going to be someone’s Mommy.
I started writing to my baby the day I found out I was pregnant. And I wrote to her throughout my pregnancy. In that pink journal.
It was before we knew she was a girl. It was before we knew she was Lila.
Then when we found out “it” was a girl, and that “she” was Lila — my entries became love letters to her.
Since her birth, I’ve written at least once a month in her journal. I write to Lila about Lila: what she says, what she does… how she’s changed my heart.
I can’t wait for her to one day to read this.
I write for her and I write for me.
Then… there’s that other journal.
The green one. I remember the day I bought it. It was the day I found out I was pregnant the second time. And I knew I wanted a journal completely different from Lila’s. Why? Because when you have babies 19 months apart, you want to make sure that they each have their own special something.
So I settled on this one.
And I started writing.
And telling sweet Vivienne that she was so loved… already.
I love looking back and reading how in just ten months, this sweet baby has made our family complete. She is sweetness. PURE sweetness.
I’ve often thought about what I’m going to do with these journals and there’s no doubt in my mind that when the time is right — they will go home to their rightful owners.
Until then, I have every intention of writing to Lila Ross and Vivienne Kate, once a month, for as long as I can write.
I need for my daughters to know that they were loved and wanted from the very first moment I knew about them. And that they remain loved and wanted today.
Oh, how I love those sweet ladies.