I want to remember....

carterbug . at the driving range . spring 2010 . 15 months old

Things are very blurry around here.

This house is just a fast moving blur of bottles and diapers and megablocks.... a loud mix of "mama" and "dada" and "honey- I need your help".

Most days- I haven't a clue what day of the week it is.... or even what year it is.... or what my middle name is.

Most days- I'm doing well to get a shower and brush my teeth twice.

Our chalkboard is always adorned with checkboxes & to-do's & my mind is overflowing with good intentions.

and I feel like I am missing everything.

Sometimes I realize that I can't remember what we did last week and I wonder- how will I ever remember things in a month, in a year?

i don't ever want to look back and not remember. these days are precious. every single minute spent snuggling and squeezing and singing and dancing with these babies is so precious.

Some days I can't wait for 4 o'clock…. I pray for it to come because 4 o'clock means an extra set of hands to help with diapers, a warm body to watch the babies while I shower, an adult to laugh & talk with, a husband who helps to cook & clean & keep the house in order….. and a man who holds my hand.

And some days, like today, I just sit in my chair in the playroom wiping big tears and breathing in and out, trying to etch all the details in my mind….. while cars and rattles and baby giggles surround me.

One day it will be prom dresses and wedding dresses and grandbabies.

One day it will be first cars and college classes and girls showing up at the door to spend evenings with my boy.

I want to remember every bit of these days…. the juice cups and the dirty diapers, the bouncy chairs to trip over, the paintings on the refrigerator and the baby socks in the dryer, the milk spills in the high chair and the boxes of tiny girl dresses showing up on the porch, the cars and blocks and coloring books and slobbery rattles, the sticky hands and play-doh messes and mickey mouse music playing in the background.

I want to remember the softness of carter's skin when i nuzzle his neck and his giggles when i tickle his underarms. i want to remember the way that clover kicks her legs frantically when she sees me over her crib rails in the morning. i want to remember the tugs on my sweater and the "mama's" when carterbug wants to read a book. I want to remember the broken crayons, the messy paint brushes, the scattered toys, and the warm little bodies snuggled up against my chest.

I want to remember it all.