Pooh: You don't spell it, you feel it.
Sometimes, maybe a lot of the time, I miss these tiny, precious, fleeting moments between my children. Not on purpose, but just because I always feel rushed, rushed, oh.my.gosh. rushed. I feel like a chicken with my head cut off, running around with no purpose and not enough time and there's a whole lot of stuff to do before the school year ends and thinking about it all makes my head spin.
The other evening, while I was trying to get the kitchen cleaned up after dinner, Kate asked if I would paint her nails. I think I mumbled something like, just a minute, after I do the dishes... the usual.
Jacob said, I'll do it. And he did. And it was one of those moments I won't soon forget. It was one of those moments that had my eyes welling with tears, threatening to stream down my cheeks. It was one of those moments that gave me a lump in my throat and made my heart swell out of my chest. Am I missing all of these moments? Am I too busy doing the dishes and folding the clothes that I miss these heart-melting moments of childhood?
I hope not. While the dishes can't wait forever, neither can the children. But I can pause. I can stop for just a moment to catch a breathtaking moment between two siblings. I can pause for just a moment to bend down and help someone tie their shoe. I can wipe my wet hands off and fix a ponytail or find some socks or come right away instead of saying, just a minute. These minutes are changing to years that are flying by, and sometimes a moment like this is the perfect reminder.
