Treasure these moments

Today was a pretty average day, by our standards.

One big meltdown because a train line was delayed and we didn't get to ride it.  Another meltdown because mean old mom said that we couldn't "just take" their friend home without his mom knowing about and signing off on it.  An hour where baby girl did not in any circumstance want her tush to touch the ground, please and thank you. One bowl of yogurt joining me in the shower.  One skipped nap. [Also an awkward encounter with the neighbors when I thought someone was breaking their windows, but it turned out that they were just very congenially smashing a mirror with a hammer.  Because, why not.]

With three little kids - 4, 2.5, and 5 months - it is very rare that we make it through a day without a meltdown, fight, temper tantrum, or tumble (sometimes it's even my children).  My kids are not bad kids, but they're *kids*, and there are quite a few of them, so the odds are ever in our favor.

If you ever want to get an up close look at what the end of the world looks like, just try telling my two year old that he can't wear socks to bed (when it's 80 degrees in his room).  I double dog dare you.  Trust me when I say that he is *very* passionate about not having naked feet.

When we go out, we are almost always guaranteed to hear two phrases:

"Oh wow, you have your hands full."  And,
"Treasure these moments.  They grow up so fast."

Depending on my mood, I respond to those statements with varying degrees of kindness and snarkiness.  I find it deeply ironic when the same person says both, especially if we're mid-meltdown.  But, because I hear it so often, I've spent a lot of time pondering the second.

It's typically said by an older woman or man, often grandparent age.  Their laugh line wrinkles give away their histories, and their calm demeanors makes me wonder if they're on to something [or, depending on our degree of chaos, on something].  It's never said in an accusatory manner - but when I have just lost my temper with my four year old for the third time that hour, and am jiggling an exhausted 5 month old, trying to make it through the check out line before she hits critical mass of meltdown, it can feel accusatory. "Why aren't you treasuring this time?" Two year old wails in, "but mommmmmmmy, I wannnaaaa treaaaaaasureeee."

Truth is - I know that they grow up quickly.  They already are. I know that I'll miss these days when they're gone.  I already (kinda) miss the tiny days.  Kinda.  Not really yet.  But when I'm in the thick of it, managing discipline and boundaries and attitudes and general chaos, treasuring it is not the first thing on my mind.  Surviving is.  Especially at this stage in the game.  I've heard *parts* of it get easier, as they get older, and I'm holding out hope for that.

I don't want to miss these moments.  I don't want to be so blinded by our chaos that I miss the precious minutes and seconds of everyday life with my littles. Babies don't keep, as Ruth Hulburt Hamilton says.  But neither do I want to deny (or worse, guilt trip myself or others about disliking) the parts that are just plain sucky.  In hindsight, stories like this one or this one or this one are hilarious (which is why I share them to remember them) - but in the moment, they make for really hard days.  As they say, the years are short, but the days are long.   And man, they can be long.  Especially with bedtime stalling. (Anyone else?)

So, I've started modifying that well-meant phrase, for my own sanity.  Here's what I'm saying instead:

"Treasure *a* moment today.  There is almost always (at least) one."

I'm no Pollyanna.  But I have noticed that when I intentionally look for one moment in the day to savor my kids, I almost always find it.

Sometimes that's smelling my baby's head as I nurse her to sleep at night, allowing myself to be in awe of her rosy little lips and 10 tiny fingers and how much she trusts me, as she relaxes into sleep.

Sometimes it's choosing to hug my four year old close as he tantrums, rather than getting exasperated.  Choosing to notice his passion and sense of justice, rather than his childishness, and to pray that those would be grown into mature characteristics that would bless others.

Sometimes it's just writing down the silly things my kids said this day, and laughing with Jon about how much toddlers really are like small drunks.   "Hey, look mom... trashcan!" ::dissolves into fit of laughter:: ::tips himself over into trashcan:: ::laughs even harder:: ::...then cries::

Some days it's easy.  And some days, you make it through and all you can say is, "we survived."  If that's been your day today, I'm pouring you a glass of wine, giving you a huge hug and raising the pom poms in my most ridiculous cheer possible to take your mind off your woes.  You've got this, Mama.  You're doing a good job, Dad.  You don't have to treasure every moment, or even every day.  Some days are just hard.

But most days, when we take the time to look for it, there is (at least) *a* moment that is sweet or silly or beautiful or just for you, that you grab hold of and truly savor.  And sometimes when you look for that one, you'll find another.  And sometimes another.  And before you know it, it'll snowball into a day that you will remember forever because of how deeply you enjoyed your little people.

Or sometimes that one taste of sweetness, reminding you how much you love these little crazies, is just enough to give you courage for the day (or night) ahead.

One moment at a time.