Time in a Bottle

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I was watching my daughter playing on the front porch today. She was so adorable, I simply couldn’t stop staring at her. The way she delicately moved her tiny hands different ways as she spoke to herself about various new findings. Everything with such excitement, every tone so happy and curious. The sudden use of adjectives in her vocabulary has made each sentence even more fascinating.

"Mommy! RED truck!!! Ohhhhhh!!!" She squeals to me as a red truck drives by. "Bye Truck. Bye!!!"

Her smile, so big for such a baby still, she is a baby still I tell myself….but she smiles so big and acts so independent it nearly breaks my heart.
"No, not yet" I feel myself whisper inwardly. Deep down I curse time for being so quick to grow my little ones up already (and they’re both under 2!).

And as I was watching her I thought, how awful it was that I could not remember what she sounded like a year ago. I was flustered for having forgotten already. And what happens if in this beautiful moment of innocence, of listening to her chubby bare feet patter across the wood…and seeing her sipping water so politely while sitting on the top step….what happens if next year I cannot recall this? Is this some awful torment of motherhood? Of being given these most amazing moments of beauty but never really being able to capture it? Am I supposed to follow her with a video camera 24/7 ? A part of me wants to, I want it all, I want to remember it all, every voice inflection, every smile, every sentence, every look of awe, every giggle at her brother….but…. how?

I watched her call the neighborhood cat, Mochi: "Mochi! Moochhiiiii! Pshhh Psh Pshhhh!" and she held out that dimpled hand and wrinkled her finger back and forth "PshhhPshh Pshhhh"

I looked at my Mom and asked her if she remembered what I sounded like back then. If she remembered me at that age. She told me you hold on to distinct memories, certain ones never change but its impossible to remember all of them.

"You hold on to the special ones, in the recesses of your heart. And well, I remember you when I see her. I see you again in her."

How wonderful, how nostalgic, how sweet. It brings me joy to know that I won’t forget, someday, when I’m gifted with grandchildren I will have to utter love of seeing my babies be babies again. And wonderfully, that time around I won’t have anything more to do, nothing more to blog about, nothing on a checklist, nothing more important other than gazing at them and filling my heart with the sweet remembrances of life.

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