Remembering...

My friend, Marta, posted this observation on her blog today in reference to the ever-changing toddler years...

it's true–i know–i am pulling at our moments and greedily pocketing them. every day there is something worthy of writing down and i try to nip it into memory. but then, swiftly it is taken by another toddler sweet-ism and the second makes me forget the first. these moments are like clean clothes pinned to a line in the breezy backyard. such a breathtaking scene, even in its ordinary-ness. though we are too busy playing beneath the waving material that i can rarely breathe in the pure beauty of it. and before i know it, suddenly a strong wind comes and we create a new game of picking the loose clothing up. a new and happy memory is already in the works.


Tears so easily flowed as I read her post.  I am sitting in my empty house after getting the girls off to school.  There are days where I long for those slow-moving, easy days of the toddler and preschool time.  Where getting out the paints was the big event of the day, and where fuzzy, pajama-clad cuddles were the norm of the evening routine.  It is going too fast.  It's true that each new experience and stage is fun and exciting.  It makes you forget for a moment about what has just passed until very quickly you realize that a year has gone by.  And then another.  I am again reminded why being a grandparent will be such a gift and the only way I will get to experience holding a tiny person in my arms who will mean the world to me all over again.

Heather will be 13 in just two months.  Jenna loves independence.  We have challenges and personality clashing moments, but those are not the things that stay with me.  Luckily, both of my girls still find me for hugs.  The long kind where we each take a deep breath and savor a moment.  Like Marta, I am also greedily pocketing the present moments.  There isn't much time to mourn with these beautiful young women in my house who still bring so much joy.  But every now and then, on a quiet morning alone, I remember those little cheeks, the silly giggles, and the sweet kisses of my babies.