These Times Are Fleeting

Have you ever had to get up out of bed for something, but you were in the most comfortable position ever and wanted to remember exactly how it felt? You study how your arm is laying and at what angle your legs are so that you can climb back into bed and feel that same exact comfort?  I do that with my babies, too.  What I mean is that I know these times are fleeting.  Sometimes I will catch an expression or will study how it feels to be holding my baby so that I can lock it into my memory as best I can.  I don't want to forget what it's like to see Lydia gleefully clicking her tongue, imitating me.  I don't ever want to forget how it feels to hold Vera after she's been freshly bathed, smelling her hair, touching her soft skin, hearing her echo the words I am reading in a book.  I wish it were possible to hold these memories in a jar so that years down the road when my heart aches for my littles, I could open it up and remember exactly what it was like.

But we can't do that.  

So instead I settle for leaving smudged handprints on my front door, even for company to see.

I keep her blankie unwashed for awhile longer just so I can smell her night time lotion and picture her cuddled in my lap.

I leave a few crumbs in her car seat that show just how much she enjoyed that snack on the ride home.

They are my reminders of the incredible gifts they are in my life.