Things I Don’t Want To Forget

Things I Don’t Want To Forget:

Michael saying “I want to tuggle with you.” And then getting irritated because I repeat it that way. “No—no! I said, sssssstuggle!”

Michael “nursing” (where did he learn to do that?)

The way Julianna dissolves into giggles at the silliest pieces of nothing.

The way every one of the children has pointed to the pickle in The Very Hungry Caterpillar, knowing I will say it in crazy-silly voice and reduce them to uncontrollable laughter.

The way Nicholas’ eyes catch the sunlight from the window, illustrating something I thought impossible—that eyes that dark brown can be at the same time so luminescent and clear.

The tremble in Alex’s voice as he shares the meanest comment someone made about his sister: She’s always so happy. It gets on my nerves. And the way his smile broke through his tears when I said that if that was the worst insult anyone could come up with about his sister, then he should just take it as a compliment.

Things that only happen with small children around…like walking into a pitch-black room to comfort a crying child in the middle of the night and stepping on something sort of firm, sort of soft, that promptly grabs your foot and nearly makes you scream until you remember that Michael has been wearing (and dropping) a slap bracelet the last several days…

The feeling of a good night’s sleep after the last commitment of a stressful few weeks…of waking to an alarm instead of my own racing brain.

The moment my husband sends me an email inviting me to go to the opera with him.

These are the moments I want to treasure. To hold so close in my heart that they never lose the immediacy and familiarity of the present.