Legacy scrap book page

Scrap booking is such a booger bear.  I have many friends who swear it off entirely because they just can't stay ahead of it so they don't want to try.  For me, it's a place to show a moment in time.  To celebrate it, ponder it and leave it as a legacy.  My boys and I sit and go through our scrap books from time to time.  I've noticed their strongest memories are of what they see in our scrap books.  What a motivator to keep doing it.

Admittedly, I call myself a "quick and dirty" scrapper.  I sort the pictures, get them on the page, put on a few stickers and call it good.  Not works of art, but enough.  I especially do this for the events that are important to our family, but they don't really pull at the artistic part of my soul.

I'm getting to a point now that when there's something to scrap that does touch my soul, I want to spend more time on it and really savor it.  This is a new place for me.  It's neat.  The page I posted above is a scrap book page that really stirs my soul. 

A few months ago I wrote out a favorite memory of my grandma, thinking I would admit it into a short story competition.  Not really a short story, but my fabulous friend Kathryn encouraged me to use it for a scrapbook page.  Genius!  My mom gathered up some pictures of me and grandma and even found a black and white photo of where the specific incident happened that the story addressed.  Super cool.

Today, the little one is napping (rare but wonderful treat) and the big boys are happily building and playing demolition in the play room.  I have some me time.  I scrap booked this page and boy, do I feel wonderful.  My grandma was one of my favorite people I've ever known and my heart aches for her.  By doing this scrapbook page, I paid homage to her beautiful memory and I allowed myself to go down a road that is really special to me.

I get frustrated with Pinterest and trying to keep up with the cutsie stuff out there when my soul longs for deep, meaningful expression.  I know scrap booking isn't that for many, but I love that I'm making it that for me.  I love even more that I've developed a system where I can spend 15 minutes on it and in that time I can get out my stuff, do something really special and get the stuff back away. 

THAT is cool in a house of 3 little boys who are just destructive.  It's like living with a pack of bear cubs.  This probably explains why my soul longs for expression.  None of my pack speaks my language.  But that's OK--by showing them my creations on paper, they can start to appreciate it. More than that, it's for me.  I find I'm the sweetest mom, kindest wife and best self when I'm taking care of myself.

I guess the question of the day is, Why don't I make a point to do it more often?