Moments

It’s cliche to talk about moments, isn’t it? Seize the moment. In this moment. Value the moment. But there’s a reason why a cliche is, well, cliche. There is always truth.
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A moment exists and then it is gone.
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Only when I am present, really actually paying-attention-present, do I experience it.
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The past couple days, as most days are, have been filled with moments. They have been extremely ordinary moments. But the type of ordinary moments that are filled with all the things you’ll never remember and could so easily miss. A teary eyed child asking me to hold him. A beautiful, deep conversation around the dinner table with a 4 year old and 2 year old about the most life-altering event in history. The glitter in her eyes when she remembers the most minute detail from adventures long past. The sleepy soft, slow breathing of a newborn, nursing–again.
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Sleepy Moments
Tonight, the teary eyed toddler turned to sweet connecting time for just me and him. An early bed time to remedy the tears, we slide him into a fresh diaper and clean pjs as we chat about nothing–sister’s clothes, body parts, teeth brushing and the repercussions of decisions. We read books, just the two of us. We pray sweet, innocent prayers that start with “hi God”, and sing one extra song by request, just to linger a little longer.
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The thing about moments that I can never seem to permanently learn is that I make them what they are. By how I show up. By how I respond. The teary moments could (and do!) lead to a downward spiral for both parent and child. A pleading for independence defies a pleading to shush. Frustration and escalation instead of patience and connection.
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Chalk Moment
If all I do is countdown my sleepless moments in the face of a sleepless newborn, I miss the attachment and connection that fades into a mist then vanishes before I can blink.
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If I busy myself with dishes and to-dos as the kids dottle on dinner, I miss the deep questions, the reflections on the day, the soul-changing revelations of the Greatest Love.
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If I choose to lose myself into the blings and blinks from my phone instead of reading and playing, I miss the details of an impossible story told in imaginative excitement and the reflected memories of family adventures.
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Concert Moments
So I guess I end with another cliche, that I am so grateful for the moments.
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Some days I miss them entirely, too wrapped up in me. And some days, I remember to be there.
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I am grateful for those moments that I’m knocked into the present, lured to stay in it, knowing that these moments are what make up my life, so it’d be best to be a part of it.
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