Scrapbooking is a hobby that I absolutely enjoy doing. For the past two days, I have been rubbing elbows with our community's finest scrapbookers. Every time I put together a page, I think fondly of whomever the page is about. Mostly, it's a review of my life with my kids. I see their toothless grins as they swim, as they play on the seesaw, as they are blowing bubbles, as they jump on the trampoline, as they play with their friends, as they ride on the boat, as they make that basket or goal, and lastly, as my husband or me smiles along with them. It's a humbling feeling chronicling their lives. Since I have two boys, the importance of having scrapbooks that detail their lives is not worthy of a passing thought for them. Secretly, I hope they both marry women that will revel in all the detail I have so passionately transcribed. Heaven forbid if these future daughters-in-law don't appreciate and admire the worth of these scrapbooks. I may become a monster-in-law instead of a loving mother-in-law. All kidding aside, I truly hope my sons will appreciate the sheer love with which I assembled these cherished moments of their lives.