speaking of energy

Speaking of energy... yesterday, Isaac dumped chips and cheerios on the floor.  Cheerios for breakfast and chips at snack time.  Asher knocked over the tv while I was doing the dishes... everyone survived though! and he set free a bag of chocolate chips (while we were decorating the tree) all over my floor which really, really made Isaac's day... I followed a trail of butter to Josh's computer chair where I found it all squished and melting.  I had been in the bathroom and had forgotten to keep all the butter out of reach, it is the first thing I usually think about protecting from my toddlers reaching hands... duh, never leave the butter in reach... Isaac also got it in his hair so after bath time it was nice and soft... and I could go on but then I would look like a mom who isn't paying attention to what her children are doing... which may very well be possible :0) I hear some crashing going on in the other room...

this was written before Christmas

After Christmas and the New Year

 Everything feels like it has moved so quickly.  Frequently, when time seems to be slipping so freely from my grasp, really sand is an apt metaphor for time, I remember a book my father would read to my family when we were all at home, A Lantern in Her Hand.  It is a beautiful story about a girl who becomes a woman and a mother and sacrifices everything for her children.  She gives up her voice, her beauty, her artistic talent all is put aside so she can build a farm, indirectly a country, for her children.  Throughout the book the main character, Abbie, frequently laments the passage of time, in the beginning of the book she says,

"It was queer how it all hurt you, -how the odor of the night, the silver sheen of the moon, the moist feeling of the dew, the whispering of the night breeze, how, somewhere down in your throat it hurt you.  It was sad, too, that this evening would never come again.  The night winds were blowing it away.  You could not stop the winds and you could not stop time.  It went on, - and on."

he would NOT keep his gloves on! and then he would cry because his hands are cold... I am not sure how often I put his gloves back on...we didn't stay out very long though

There have been times when I have felt this need to stop time.  Not all of the moments have been happy ones, some of them have been bitter.  Once, when a friend of mine passed away I wanted time, the world, nature, to stop and mourn with me, it didn't make sense to have everything move forward without her.  Couldn't it stop for a moment?  Just one moment while I gathered everything that seemed so senseless back together to try and make some sense of it all, she died so young.  I knew I would see her again, which eased the pain but did not... take it away.

While some moments may have been bitter there are also some that are infinitely precious.  Now, I have my children and they are growing, how delightful it would be to be able to stop time and drink in the deliciousness of my children, to laugh and play, blow raspberries on their fat little bellies, one more kiss on their chubby, chubby cheek, one more hug around my neck, one more lullaby while they sleep so innocently in my arms... to prolong that moment so that it will be recorded forever, a never forgotten and tangible moment I can carry with me for the rest of my life.  They aren't even grown up yet and I am thinking of when it will be gone, probably because I know that one day it will be and this is the moment I need and want to cherish.  What a good reminder for me, especially when it gets hard as it always does when you are a parent.  Remember what is really valuable and important what you will cherish most in the end and focus on it.

Today, not written a few days ago

Yes this is a potty training toilet/step stool... it has never been used as a toilet though just a step stool.  Isaac got stuck in it.

Today, Asher walked into our bedroom and said, "Dad listen to my belly music!" while slapping his belly.  Josh told me later that it was a very 'me' thing to do.  It is too, I frequently point out the noise Asher is making and say, "look, your making music" as he slams the stick against the playground metal bars.  All the other mothers there are secretly thanking me for encouraging him to make such beautiful 'music'.

Because we laughed, Asher wanted his fair share of the attention and got himself  'stuck' in the toilet too.

Earlier, Isaac went over to the coach and swiped Josh's book off the back of it.  In surprise Josh asked, "Did you just knock the book off, Isaac?"  Responding quickly, Isaac said, "Noooooo."  He is only one and already he is learning to cover his tracks.  It is more fascinating to me, as a mother, because he actually doesn't talk very much.  He will say words, but not consistently and he won't repeat himself for your pleasure, or even just to guarantee he said what he said.  So sometimes, you are left wondering if he really did just say, "Bye, Uncle Willie."

He says hi more like hau.