Sometimes I forget.
I forget the lessons I learned in the early days of motherhood.
The why of why I named this blog Mommy Moments instead of Mommy Life.
It's easy to get lost in the ENTIRETY of motherhood, to become overwhelmed by the sheer responsibility of it all.
I get lost in the pure numbers of it all - the minutes spent away, the minutes wasted, the minutes gone wrong, the minutes done wrong, the minutes that seem to slip away sometimes with me barely even noticing that the clock is ticking on the in-house days I have with my babes.
But yet.............there are moments.
Moments of a girl sitting on the edge of a bed, legs crossed, fingers slipping golden hair behind delicate ears and she talks. She talks endlessly and with the mouth of a child, the tone of a child but the words of someone older. She talks of art class where there was free art today and she talks on and on.
I ask if she preferred free art or art class when there was a project. I was certain I knew the answer but I asked to hear the response.
I was right.
Oh my girl.
She likes the art project where there is structure and things you are suppose to do and then you can do your own thing within the boundary of the project. Free art leaves way too much choice and blanks to fill in. She talks on about such things - using her own words not mine. It's lovely to hear and I drink in the moment.
Then there are the moments of my boy............I marvel at his size and his strength every day. How big he's gotten. How he has opinions now on hair (bangs always, gel on rare occasions, mostly always trimmed and neat would be the preference) and clothes (always athletic) and girls (he likes the loud ones, the ones that act more like boys and only as friends).
I love that he cuddles in the dark of morning or night, that he seeks out comfort only when we give him space. Those are the moments I treasure - the whispered conversations with an almost grown boy about school and life and friends and how I love his words and explanations of things. He sees things that most don't at his age - he names everyone's best friends in class using everyone's last names and explaining the whys of the relationships, he explains his frustrations with getting things wrong and being angry and so much more.
I just marvel at who he is when he lets himself go.
And oh my girl.......the last and the oh so typical of being the last. The clown, the jokester, the always rumpled, always slightly disorganized last. Her moments save us from ourselves at times, they save her from complete disaster.
I hear just her voice and I smile.
We've had people ask about her "accent" - her Jersey-like, full of drama accent. It seems to be fading a bit and I will mourn the day it ends when "purrrrse" becomes the ordinary and clipped "purse" - how I love her words.
But her moments are filled with well-timed phrases - such as when we were cautiously watching "Maleficent" waiting for the kids to be too scared and thinking that we would have to turn it off. The battle begins and the horses charge and there is yelling and screaming and Maleficent begins to rage and it's all a bit overwhelming and you hear......
"I LOVE her."
And just like that the entire tone of the scene changes for us all and we laugh and any hold the images might have had on any of us is dispelled because of a Jersey-like, full of drama accented girl.
But sometimes moments are enough.
Because when viewed through it's entirety motherhood can break you, make you feel not enough, make you question what you do or say or decide.
Motherhood is so hard, at times, because who has it all figured out?
Certainly not me.
BUT.............I have my moments.
Moments that shine.
Moments that last.
Moments that fill me up.
Moments that make me laugh.
Moments to cherish.
Moments to store away.
Moments of greatness.
Moments of perfection.
Moments of sweetness.