Finding the Journal

Busy weekend, moving a friend into a new townhouse, cleaning out my bedroom closet, embarking on a massive photo-rearranging project, two hours of tennis on Sunday afternoon, and we forgot sunscreen, so by the time we went to church that evening we were amusingly red and awfully sore. Our church now has evening services (identical to the morning ones), which I could not be happier about, as my morning-person experiment only applies to weekdays. Which today didn’t work so well, as we stayed up too late last night, so I was only able to pull myself (with great effort) out of bed by 7:40. I imagine tomorrow will be much the same, as it’s already nearing 11:00 now…

While cleaning out my closet Saturday, I found a journal my mom kept for me when I was a baby. It’s a blue three-ring binder with notebook paper, nothing fancy, but the pages, which are just slightly yellowing, are covered in her handwriting. I believe I’d be able to pick out my parents’ handwriting out of a lineup if I had to. Funny how we memorize things like handwriting. The way she writes a capital Y. I never had nice handwriting like my mother does.

Some entries:

4-9-84 (11 mos.)

Erin, you have a wonderfully funny way of showing your temper now. You raise your arms, out in front of you somewhat, like a weight lifter, and squeal. Everyone cracks up. Then, you sometimes get on all fours and scoot on your head.

4-11-84

You just learned to say no. You went over to the dishwasher and started to touch the silverware and said, “No, no, no!” You have a very pretty voice; maybe you’ll be a singer one day. You love to dance. It’s so cute, when music starts, you start. You were so content today. Ate real good. Mommy got some spring cleaning done. You have just learned to come toward Mommy with your arms outstretched. Sometimes you’ll tease me by coming almost to me with your arms out, then turn as soon as you get up to me. Stink pot!

She really did write that line about spring cleaning and then cross through it. I laughed when I read it, because it’s so very much like my mother—cleaning is something she’d write about, but then I imagine her getting self-conscious and thinking that spring cleaning isn’t quite the topic for a mother-to-daughter journal. But it was at the very bottom of the page, so I imagine she just decided to cross through it and keep going.