Making memories

I know Sawyer is too young to appreciate going cool places, being spontaneous or blowing off chores for fun stuff.

I know he won't remember stopping at the park to play on days when I have dragged him in and out of four different stores.



Or the day I had to stop at Goodwill and buy him a pair of jeans because he got so wet and muddy playing before we had somewhere else to be.




I doubt he thinks it's neat to have a mom who packs a lunch or runs by the drive-through so we can pull over and have an impromptu picnic.



I will only have a couple crummy cellphone pictures to show him the first football game he and I attended together on a cool, feels-like-fall Friday night. But I can tell him about how we sat near the band and how he danced and beat on the bleachers along with the drummers.



And maybe it's poor parenting skills, but I will take the heat for buying us pumpkin ice cream when the fall festival we went to turned out to be incredibly lame.



And of course, there are days when the "fun" stuff is for my benefit ... days when we both need to blow off steam or just get some fresh air, days when I can't bear the thought of doing more chores.

I don't have to do all these things to win Sawyer's love. He adores me at my worst: my tired, sick, grouchy, exasperated days.

So even before he's old enough to understand them, my hope is that we're building some traditions that will last well past the terrible twos.

Traditions that foster a love of going cool places, making fun a top priority and seizing the kind of moments that make happy memories.

Even if Mama is the only one who remembers.