We don't spend much time looking back. We have hours of family videos from births and Christmases that I imagine won't get unearthed until the Littles are Bigs and need some good old fashion humiliation. There are wedding albums and hospital bracelets thrown into various boxes of important unimportance. Friends and family often note how much he's changed and how fast she's grown. Jason and I are often befuddled because to us, they are our constant companions. Constant and steady. I often fear if I spend too much time looking back I may miss something that is happening Right Now. And we are Right Now people. (Cue Van Halen). So, with eyes forward, we step into our present.
In fact, looking too far ahead gives me chills of anxiety also. People tell you these years are fleeting and you don't believe them. Because your days are jammed tight with crib assembly, diaper changing, mouth wiping, hand washing, car seat fastening, story reading, and stern voice-using. You are not sitting on a picnic blanket admiring the passing moments, you are in that moment. An active member. A participating party.
Until you realize that you have too many valuable memories stored on your computer, and to be safe you should put them on a backup hard drive. And before you know it, a year passes before your eyes.
And I hadn't really realized anything had changed. Some of them seem like yesterday and others like 100 years ago. Shoes all grown out of and given away and hair all grown out. More sturdy on their feet and more complex in their behavior. More precise in their movement and more aware of everything. There they are, one year ago. So very different, but to us, just the same. Our constant companions.
*all photos from May, 2011