It's late at night as I type this. It's rare for me to find a time when I can use MY computer. And even more rare to have a few consecutive minutes that I won't have to answer any questions.
I was at my parents' house for a few days, which was great. The kids had non-stop fun with cousins. Swimming... movies.... Nintendo...treats every day. They wanted to stay all summer!
Ever since we got home, though, I have had such a feeling of gratitude for home. My home. I love the new bathroom Jeff just finished for me. I love the view out my back windows. I love my fluffy white bed. I love all of my trees. I love knowing where everything is in my kitchen. (Or at least where it should be!) I love that I have comfortable rooms and enough food for all of my children. I guess I'm just feeling very blessed.
Today for family home evening I took the kids bowling. (Jeff and Eli stayed home, sick.) Afterward, we had pizza and cookies. Caleb asked if he could have another cookie, and I said yes. Simon let out a quick laugh and said "Two cookies? I didn't see that one comin'!" Funny kid! We all cracked up!
Eli has been so much fun lately. He's starting to talk quite a bit. We can get him to repeat almost anything... except for the kids' names. He calls them all Gecka. At first it was just for Becca, but now it can apply to any of his siblings. He is constantly exploring around the house. He especially loves my make-up drawer and the girls' room. He can usually find gum or candy in there.
Maybe Eli's love for life is rubbing off on me. I sure hope so. He spends almost all day, every day, happy. He is pretty much always smiling, and is always busy, looking for a good time!
So I guess the point of this post is that I have a really great life. Sometimes it gets so hectic that I forget to notice how good things really are. But years from now, when I try to recall the details of these years, it is this feeling that I want to remember.
My inspiration for this record of my days:
“The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less” -Anna Quindlen