“Oscar, clean your room” stemmed from a single moment of parenting where I just couldn't throw away a tiny pair of happy pants that once wrapped my son’s chubby nappy covered butt because they took me back to a place that seemed so close to my vulnerable ‘new mum’ place.
I could almost smell his baby smell because that memory is embedded in my heart and head forever.
Holding those weeny little pants felt ridiculous because I really don't know why it seemed important that I couldn't get rid of those pants but…. I did realise it wasn't the actual pants I couldn't give away. It was the memory that came with them.
I began laying out ALL my kids toys and memorabilia in flatlay form and the results were pretty amazing. If I could create a book that can be used over and over even as my babes grow then passed on again…..isn’t the value of that memory so much more?
