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.
“Forever is composed of nows.” Emily Dickinson
Something about that quote hit me recently and it has become a sort of manifesto in my daily life. Life as a newly stay at home mom can be slow. And I’m learning to love this slow living. It’s a big change for me as someone who likes to be busy and wants my days to be full and every moment not wasted. It’s easy to get caught up in the memory making and filling our days and making grand gestures and “creating memories”. Especially during Christmas. I am so guilty of this during Christmas because it is my favorite time of year. Christmas tree shopping? Check. Santa photos? Check. Disneyland? Check. Christmas train and hot cocoa? Check. Of course, I’m not saying any of these things are wrong! They bring joy and they certainly make memories. But more than anything, I want to create an atmosphere that is full of love and whimsy.
I heard something extremely profound recently when I listened to an interview with researcher and author, Brené Brown. She said that in her years of study, when people look back on their life to recall the things they miss the most, it’s never the grand gestures or extravagant memories made, it’s the little things that happen daily. It’s the sound of the screen door slamming signaling that daddy is home; the feeling of your little one tugging on your shirt; the sound of your kids laughing in the yard. Life is made full, when we are grateful for those little things. Our gratefulness turns ordinary days into wonder-filled days.
At the end of the day, my daughter is going to remember the way she felt growing up. Sure, she might remember our days at Disney or when we surprise her to take her out of school for a road trip, but what she will always remember is the way she felt. Will she remember a home that was tense and rigid or a home that was fun and full of laughter? I want Brighton to have memories of a life full of whimsy. A life where she was free to fly and fail and learn and explore; a life where she felt safe with us, but bold enough to dream. It’s easy to get caught up in the never-ending to-do lists or the big dreams of grand memory making, but I want to be better at being grateful for each moment and celebrating the beauty in the memories to be had in the ordinary days. The days that are slow with walks to the park; the days where we spend our time eating pastries and drinking coffee at the coffee shop because we actually made it out of the house; the days where we adventure to a new place with so much to explore; each one laced with gratitude and celebration.
I just finished reading Anne of Green Gables and couldn’t help but picture Brighton as Anne. So full of wonder and imagination. Every flower a poem, every bird a friend, every day a “new day with no mistakes in it... Yet.” I hope at the end of my life I will feel rich not because of what I have, but because of the relationships I made and the glory I found in each day. And I hope that when Brighton is on her own, building her own family and creating new memories she will look back with fondness on her time under our roof that was full of love, whimsy, and gratitude for the ordinary.