Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Quiet Times and Nursery Rhymes

So often I write about the crazy and chaotic parts of motherhood. I don't write much about the quiet moments that we as mothers gather up and put in the treasure box of our memories. I need to do better.

Tonight, I was sitting in my favorite chair curled up with a book. I was taking a break from the arduous task of creating a photo slideshow for my brother's graduation. (Scanning in pictures from the nineties is not my idea of a good time.) My husband is sitting on the couch even now watching the Chicago Cubs play the Cincinnati Reds. My older daughters are off spending time doing who knows what. It is relatively quiet in my home. (Except for the occasional outbursts at the game from my husband.)

A small voice breaks my concentration from my book. I look over to see our youngest daughter sitting on my husband's chest. She is combing his hair and chattering away about her day. She clearly has an active imagination, as she is regaling my husband with a story of the leprechaun that stole her shoes. She is gesticulating wildly and Brian has to move his head periodically to avoid being stabbed in the eye. He is doing a pretty good job at listening to her, watching the baseball game, and avoiding personal injury. (Who says men can't multitask? The good ones learn how when they become daddies.)

As I watch them together, I realize that this is one of those moments. Someday when Charlotte is all grown up I will think about this moment in time and smile. Someday when Brian and I are old and gray I will remember the time he took the time to listen to our daughter. I will remember what a good man I married and how lucky I was to find him so young. Not many people find the other half of their heart at sixteen. I did. These are moments that make me realize that no matter how stressful our lives together might be we are the lucky ones.

There are times that I want to smack him upside the head with a blunt object. I am sure that he would love to gag me sometimes just to shut me up. (Oh, I know that I am a nag.) There are days when our children just drive us crazy. That's when we send them to Gowan. (That's what the girls call my mother.) I hope that those aren't the times that I remember when I am old. I hope that the good outweighs the bad. I hope that my kids remember the times where we laughed more than the times that we cried. Since we are a normal family, I know that there will be those times.

I know that someday some men will break my daughters' hearts. They will have their share of loss and sorrow. But I also know that they will have their share of happiness and laughter. Someday they will have their own warm moments to look back on. I hope that they will be able to look at their spouse and see the goodness in him. Someday they will tell me about their treasure box moments and I can add it to my own stockpile. Because when I go from this world I want my treasure box to be overflowing. Don't you?

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