Moments...

So JUST as I was planning this blog of my own called "Moments", another blogger (and friend and better writer than I) posted one called "Those Moments" about the moments in the day that make motherhood. I laughed. This woman, whom I only know online (she is the wife of a high school classmate of mine) is truly somehow my other half, my long distance BFF and someone who truly understands where I come from. I couldn't believe we were blogging the same thing at about the same time. I nearly decided to just skip this blog, but instead I dedicate it to her. Erika... this one's for you! (check out her honest take on life & motherhood at http://storyofaho.blogspot.com/).

Erika wrote hers because she often has others asking (and finds herself asking well... herself) why she had 4 kids. I came up with mine as I realized that, while my blog is often humorous (or intended to be), it is also often about the negative. The struggles, the uh-oh, the vomiting, the potty training, etc. It might make one think I don't like this little adventure called Motherhood that I've embarked on.

On the contrary, kids, I actually do LOVE this little adventure. Do I find myself asking, "why the h@#! did I do this?" from time to time? Yes. Do I often wonder if I have the emotional, mental and physical wherewithall to handle this job? Of course. But there are those moments folks, those moments that make it all worth it. You know the ones... if you froze them they'd look like moments from those feel-good family movies that you watch and think, "RIIIIIIIIIGHT, parenthood is really like that". The boy and his dad at a baseball game, the family laughing together at breakfast not a single damn hair out of place and everyone ready for school, the beach trip in perfect late-afternoon sunshine, even the supposed "horrible" moments like the mom and dad shooting eachother knowing looks over a vomiting child. Those moments. They happen and I don't want to forget them, because they are beautiful and they make this whole trip worth it.

There were a couple moments just recently where I actually stopped and thought about it. Both happened just this weekend... one with each kid.

The first was Saturday morning. It was William's first Duck football game. I cried folks, I seriously did. It was such a sweet moment. William (who is now old enough to be disappointed not to join Daddy and Pop Pop at Ducks games) has been asking when he can go to one. So this past weekend my father-in-law decides to skip the game and despite non-stop rain and recovering from surgery, Mike decides to ask William if he'd like to go to a Duck game. The look of joy, amazement and disbelief on my son's face was one I'll never forget. He was SO anxious to go that he asked about every 1/2 hour if it was time to go yet. When they did finally get ready to leave he was perfect... going potty, putting on his socks and shoes and all politeness. Then seeing the two of them, all "Ducked" out (complete with hats & ponchos), William with his Duck Lips noisemaker around his neck, hand-in-hand, leaving the house together just reduced me to tears. I hear them walking to the car and William saying, "yeah Dad! We'll have a Dude's Day. Just you & me." It KILLED me. I wanted to freeze time right there, a boy and his dad holding hands. It was beautiful.

The second moment was Saturday night. It was when Elizabeth (one might think this was a negative, but it wasn't) started getting sick. Elizabeth is an EXCELLENT sleeper, has been since she was 3 months old. She goes to sleep and STAYS that way. But Saturday night, something happened. I think it was a combination of teething and starting to get sick, because she usually sleeps even when she's sick. But on Saturday night she woke up 5 TIMES. FIVE. I would have normally been exhausted and thus annoyed, but for some reason I found myself thankful for the time to comfort her instead. She's 18 months old now and growing out of that stage where she likes to be held for any length of time. And LONG before her brother did, she grew out of the need to hold onto/sleep on mom when she feels ill. So this night, each time she woke, I found her wanting to just be in my arms and I really didn't mind the lack of sleep. The first time she woke, I was so taken aback by her wanting to be held and rocked, that I found myself crying as I held and sang her back to sleep. It took me back to when she was a tiny baby. When I held her so much and how warm and sweet it was to fall asleep together, even if it was sitting up in a rocking chair. I found myself missing those moments and even crying at the joyful thought that my sister is going to do this sometime soon as she is due with her first in November. Elizabeth's soft snoring, her looking up at me while I sang and her eyes sloooowly drooping closed while her little hand gripped my arm was just too much. The fact that something so simple as holding and singing to her (with my crappy voice) is enough to make her feel better is amazing to me. It makes me love being a mom. It made me cry. Chalk it up to hormones, lack of sleep, whatever... I'll chalk it up to loving a moment alone with my daughter, late at night, sitting in a rocking chair, holding on to each other, just the two of us breathing together.

There have been other moments, ones I wish I'd recorded. The impromptu dinner at the little league field with William as we ate corn dogs and watched about 2 1/2 little league games while the sun set. Watching William settle into his spot at the playdough table at preschool, suddenly completely unaware of us watching him as he introduced himself to other kids. The first mommy & me swim class with Elizabeth when she laid back in the water and just let me float her in a circle. Running through the neighbor's sprinklers with my kids in the wagon on the way home from the park because they were shooting over the sidewalk and I knew it would make them both laugh. Hearing Elizabeth's first unprompted "wa oooh" (love you) from her crib as I left her room at night. The perfect afternoon at the park with my husband, sister and brother-in-law where William decided that standing on top of the hill, picking flowers and watching the little league kids play ball was way better than the slides. The impromptu rush into the waves with William in Santa Monica although we had no dry clothes to change in to and it was cold as the sun set. Elizabeth walking over to William's room, pounding on the door and shouting "BUBBA!" to wake up her brother because she wanted to play with him.

Those are the moments folks. The moments you remember when the s@#! hits the fan. When you're tired, when the kids are sick, when no one naps, when you wonder if you're doing an okay job, when you can't stand repeating directions for the 100th time, when the day is too full of time outs... those are the moments you have to remember. It will all go too fast. It will all fade away and change. But those moments will make it all worth it. Those moments are why we're here... or at least why I am. :)