Note- taking

I had decided a bit back that I wanted to write a blog entry about things that make Mabel laugh or smile.  It seems like just the sort of thing I would love to look back on.  In the moment, even if I send a laugh or grin to what feels like the safest space in my memory, I know by now I am still doomed to forget it.  Thus, I began jotting quick notes into my iphone notepad right in the very moment.  Ah, the power of technology at the fingertips!

So I thought I was totally on top of this blog entry with my super- techie note- taking.  What I didn't anticipate was that I wouldn't remember what some of the notes meant later.  I mean, it's been only weeks since some of these occurred, and I don't remember their images at all.  I am either developing dementia fast, or I am learning that this is the stuff of parenthood-- fleeting moments of joy that you will never get back or truly feel again.  It's not as downer as it sounds, because these happy moments do continue to accumulate.  But wow.  Wow.

Writing this entry beckons to my high school diary-- now THERE is some really powerful writing (insert sarcasm face).  But what I mean is that I wrote a lot of that journal in code, lest my sneaky little brother or a nosy parent wanted to take a peek.  When I unearthed the diary a good decade later, I realized I couldn't decode most of what I had written.  I'd come up with words and phrases for times, places, and people-- probably ultra- sure in the moment that I would always remember what they stood for-- only to come up short when looking back as an adult.  It's sad, really, not to be able to uncover and relive some of the joys-- and even pains-- of that tumultuous but exciting time. 

And so I must remind myself that every moment is just that-- a moment.  And while a blog or some phone notes will transport me to a place and a time and may even make me feel joyful, I will never again fully and deeply experience what it was like to see Mabel do that ONE thing for the first time.  The passage of time is one of those crazy phenomena that science can't even remotely justify to me.

Here goes anyway, as I hope I can feel an iota of the pure happiness each of these moments originally brought:

Things that make Mabel laugh or smile:
- Sitting atop J or me, equestrian style-- we call it the "giddy- up."  She used to roar at this, but I guess she is becoming jaded as now she just grins-- it's still awfully sweet.
- Here's an example of one I don't really remember-- I put in my phone, "Putting the dolls from doll house into their beds."  Sadly, I don't recall now whether it made her laugh or smile.
- Wearing my bracelets-- and I should add that in addition to finding excitement in this exercise, Mabel also takes great pains as to not allow the bracelets to fall off, holding her arm upright for good stretches of time.
- Being able to brush her teeth without assistance (I brush them first, then let her have fun thinking she is actually brushing...)
- Again-- one I don't remember now-- Putting the Dr. Seuss hat on me, Bun- Bun, or herself
- Making a tower correctly-- and follows the smile with some self- applause
- My voicing, "I pity the fool!" a la Mr. T.  I have no idea why, but this cracks her right up. 
- My pretending to gulp from her cup or bottle.
- The playing of the Abby's Flying Fairy School theme-- again, lots of applause.
- Performing any form of hide n' seek, but especially when she closes the bathroom door and makes us knock to "look for her."
- Play kitchens-- enough said.
- Siri!!  Again, enough said.
- Feeding my parents' dog, whom we babysit from time to time, his biscuits and water. 
- Feeding anyone or anything, really.  She gets a real kick out of that.
- Riding her rocking horse without help.


- And this one is my favorite so I will use some detail-- Mabel has fascinated me with how well she has observed use of the vacuum cleaner.  After I unplug it and reload the cord into the unit, she will pull the cord out again; walk to the outlet to try to plug it in (though she is thwarted by outlet covers); go back to the vacuum itself and "clean" the rug for a while, with impressive form; pick up pesky things that won't seem to pick up and try to actually place them in the vacuum unit.  This process keeps her smiley and busy for chunks of time-- wonder if she will enjoy actually vacuuming when the time comes.