I wrote this post Friday, August 18th 2006. I am recycling it as my entry for the Mother’s Day Giveaway photo competition.

Since the beginning of this week the furniture downstairs has been moved to different parts of the house in order to comfortably accommodate fifty people for Christian’s baptism. And much like when one moves house, we came across items tucked into their little forgotten corners covered in dust, only that these dusty items were rediscovered with, ah oui!

Last night Olivier brought out his collection of videos that he had taken of the children from when they were little bitty. Our children love to watch themselves when they were smaller. They chuckle at the way they gurgled as babies and laugh out loud at the way their ringlets bounced about whenever their toddler legs wobbled. They’ve changed a lot and we notice these changes more as each year went by of watching them on screen.

When the children were with their grandparents last year I went through all their photographs organising them into albums long overdue. I reminisced the days away of how much they had changed, and every time I went to visit them in France, how much more I noticed them changing. I didn’t see it as much in the day to day of our busyness together previously. Thank goodness for the different pieces of the puzzle we each hold that we put together for each other.

But I miss them when they were babies. I miss them when they were toddlers. I miss the girls when they were at the age Christian is now just before they got baptised. Before they go to bed now I kiss and hug them that bit more. I take note of my daughters’ now long feet walking about in my shoes and smell my son’s hair soaked with sweat from kicking his soccer ball in the hot sun.

I notice their voices too, the only thing, I realise, that hasn’t changed. Like the cries of when she was first born Francoise’s voice is still soft, while Pascale’s voice makes one stand to attention. Then there’s the voice of surprise packaged in a small capsule like an eveready battery. Nothing has changed in their voices from since their first breath.

These are the things I want to remember just like I do when they dangle from the tree tops and make me shriek, or how they always forget to remember important signs about not diving into the pool that leave me shaking my head wondering if any teeth have been chipped yet. All the little things that when they get older I will tell them what I know from the ones they always hear.