The Sling Diaries, Volume VII. A photo-documentary chronicling the art of baby wearing in the lives of families around the world. Over the course of six months, Sling Diarists will create their own Sling Diary though a series of diary entries interpreting a unique theme given to them each month.
Meet all of our Sling Diarists here.
They won't remember this.
A thought that often flits, hummingbird-like, through my mind as we go about our days.
He won't remember how I helped him get dressed; the threading of his ever growing limbs through tiny pant legs and flopping sleeves as if I were weaving a baby into a boy a little more every day.
She won't recall what it feels like to press her pillowed cheeks against the skin on my chest. That feeling of being safely slung next to mama's heart; a mirror of the womb-home I feel like she was just living in yesterday.
I'm of the belief that memories, whether we can recall them with original sharpness or not, still play a vital role in who we grow to be. As I write this, my son is three and my daughter is heart-wrenchingly shy of six months old. It's her first Christmas with us earthside and his first as a big brother.
I already miss them at this age.
The clarity of the Little Years will inevitably dim as they grow older but that doesn't mean the magic of it will be lost on them. The memories of all their "firsts" will always reside deep inside them, the soft flickerings of a love, a warmth that's always been present.
Oh Jesus, let me remember this. I pray.
Let me remember her eyes, his laugh. The slow rise of her chest while she sleeps. The way his fingers dance when he tells stories. Her chubby hands reaching to cup my face. His hair catching in the light. Let me recall the rhythm, the poetry of our days when they were this young, when I was this young. Let me be the Memory Keeper, the one who tends to these ember-moments that quietly warm the cores of their growing hearts.
And so, in each moment and day and long night and moment spent under the arching sun, I'll guard the flame, I'll sing over them. They might not remember when they first heard the song but their hearts will know the familiar hum from deep inside calling out: You are important and beautiful. You were made in His image and born for great purpose.
All these memory notes that spark, burning away any doubts that they were ever anything but loved and wanted.
Perhaps, it's the same song we're all meant to know.
"The Lord your God is in your midst, a might one who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing." -Zephaniah:3-17