I was beautiful then.
Facebook reminds me that four years ago, I spent most of the day at the hospital:
Still in labor at 16 hours. I got an epidural around hour 12, and it's working GREAT. Best invention ever.
Seven years ago, I posted a video of my pet parakeet, which I bought to keep me company when I worked from home. Five years ago, I posted a photo of the plant stand my husband built for my new office.
Last year: Yesterday Liam head-butted the baby. Today he bit me on the ear. I'm not raising a toddler; I'm raising Mike Tyson.
I've been thinking about how different motherhood might be, if I didn't have Facebook's daily reminders of memories from the past 10 years. I don't anticipate quitting Facebook any time soon, and it's certainly not going away, so I'll likely be posting new memories for years to come. One day I'll have two teenagers, and then perhaps I'll reminisce about the sweet things they said as toddlers. Perhaps I'll pull up Facebook memories and show my grandchildren all the things their father said and did on that particular day.
Past generations relied on photos tucked in shoe boxes or pressed into albums. Each one was a small investment in film and developing fees. Now teens flock to social media platforms like Snapchat, where videos and photos disappear seconds after being viewed, because recording memories has become so easy that saving them has become a burden.
Strange to think of how quickly things change.