Today is Scrapbooking Industry Day and my family is probably 27% of the industry. Since I can remember my mom has scrapbooked. She has dutifully scribed my every moment. From birth until now, when she claims she will no longer be crafting my life. Last weekend when I was home I asked her if I could take my baby book to Norman so I could celebrate the fact that I have these amazing books. She sort of freaked out, mainly in part to the fact that I asked her if I could go sky diving this weekend about 30 minutes before I asked to borrow the book.
She has an emotional attachment to these books. Probably due to the fact that she has spent hundreds of hours making them. If there is every a fire at our house we all know that the scrapbooks get saved no matter what.
As a child, I sort of loathed the fact that my mom took 5 million pictures wherever we went. I had friends that lamented with me as well because they too had scrapbooking mothers. Emily, Taylor, Thomas and I, who were in the same grade school class, and who I still am friends with to this day would be subjected to photos everywhere we went. Our mothers were our own paparazzi. You better believe that we had every outing, together or separate documented. We put on really good faces and went along with it. Good thing we did, because now we all have these amazing books that our moms made.
They used to have parties together. They would set up tables and scrapbook for hours. Literally hours. I remember one time my mom and I went to Chicago with another mother daughter set. My mom thought it would be a genius idea to bring her scrapbooking things with her so she could scrapbook in the hotel. We had to tote those bags around with us through the airport. We missed a flight due to the volume of bags, and due to the fact that our moms found a Talbot’s Kids.
The point is I love these books. My books are a teal green color. My sister has a color and so does my brother. And as the years progressed on my mom got better at scrapbooking. When I told her I was taking my baby book she said, “Don’t take that one, I wasn’t good at scrapbooking then.” Now she uses a fancy paper cutting machine that carves colored paper into shapes and letters and 3D holograms. But when she first started she hand wrote most of what was in our books. And I love my mom’s hand writing so I was jazzed.
I am also the first-born child. Which means my parents loved me the most…. I mean they didn’t really, but I was like a new toy. A new toy that my mom needed to write down everything about. Literally. I know the dates of almost every major event in my baby days. For example….
Crawled: May 10, 1990
Sat up: May 2, 1990
Walked Alone: Mid July 1990
Drank From a Cup: at 10 1/2 months, only uses a cup (with a lid)
You get the idea. Every new food that was introduced to me was dated. Every hilarious thing I said was document. And let me tell you, I was hilarious. For example…
2 Years: Put your seat belt on lady. (I said this to a realtor that was taking us to see a house)
2 Years: I’m the cleaner lady…. have you got fixty dollars? Have you got ten? Ok, it’s free.
2 Years 4 months: Kate, guess what Santa Claus will come to our house. “Does he have a key?”
2 1/2 Years: What are you guys talking about? Are you talking about me?
2 1/2 Years: I know, let’s do something really fun!
2 1/2 Years: Oh, I’m sad. I’m sad (before a spanking)
2 1/2 Years: Kate, it’s rude to contradict people. “No it’s not.”
So I know a lot about myself as a child. And that is largely due to the fact that my mom wrote in this book. I am forever indebted to her. She likes to try to guilt trip me into scrapbooking by saying things like, “Your children are going to be so deprived without scrapbooks.”
I laugh and nod and know that she is right. I probably won’t be able to resist the stickers and paper and nonsense that my mom loves so much.
This is probably one of the coolest pictures in my baby book. We span the years 1889 to 1989. The women in my family are notorious for cutting their hair short whilst pregnant. Clearly my mom fell into that category.
My third birthday looked like it was straight out of the pages of a Pottery Barn photoshoot. I had a great outfit on and my mom had beautiful hair. 1992 was a good year.
So there’s that. My baby book. I will have it forever and ever. I love it so so much. I should probably start buying stickers so I can become a professional scrapbooker.
PS: As I write this, my friend Courtlyn is looking through my book. He said the following, “The best thing about this book is the evolution of your mother’s hair.” That pretty much summed everything up.
PPS: I went to grade school in Edmond up to the 2nd grade. I have pictures with all of my friends from Edmond. There are about 5 of them that I reconnected with in college. Full circle.