snapshots

(E, this one is more or less for you, pretty girl.*)


When I was pregnant with Oliver this summer, one of my neighbors and I were talking - particularly about what it might be like with the two kids:  Me, "utter chaos, right?!" and my sweet, sweet neighbor, with the experience of transitioning from 1 to 3 after having twin boys post first-daughter, she smiles, "it can be crazy, but oh the moments you will have are priceless."


This, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call a 'snapshot.'  Both the moment in time chatting with Lisa, but also the concept that life is compiled of little moments not to be taken for granted.  I heard a quote this this New Years, "days go by slow, but years go fast."  How true!  Take a look at your calendars, it's already the final week of January...Ultimately, what she told me was not new, but hearing and listening are very things.


Something else I mentioned to her as a potential nervousness was the unpredictable timing of juggling both; re: feedings, play needs, NAPS.  After all, Elliot is generally a champion sleeper, what if the little one's Zzzzs caused her grief?  Or us??  Again, so poetically, Lisa reflected something then, which today reared its lovely sentiment to me for nearly the first time in almost 5 months of having a second child: "oh, you will love having that special time with Elle - being with her in those precious moments alone will be different than it has ever been the last two years."


What do those Internet memes always say?  MIND BLOWN.  There have been a few keys indicators of this righteous statement just this weekend.  Today, Elle speaking softly but oh so fervently to herself while building an imaginative Lego tower.  Mike and I tiptoed around like house fairies to hear her monologue run with characters ("Prince" and "Princess") and scenery ("horsey' crib").  Elle was also sick on Saturday with a 24-hour bug.  I may regret saying this, but give me poop over throw-up any day.  Blech.  After nearly 6 hours of sheet-stripping and back-rubbing, we brought her downstairs to let the last bath hair dry a little before getting back into bed.  As we snuggled on the lone couch cushion unscathed, I asked if I can brush her hair.  I figured this could provide a little familiarity of comfort; lately she has been noticing when I get 'my face' on in the mornings and asks for her share of blush and powder too:  "Makeup for Elliot, too, Mama."  So I asked about her hair and Elle wiped some of the bangs from her brow, looking up doe-eyed to question somewhat deliriously, "for tangles then look in mirror and see so pretty?"  Okay, I'm crying now.  During those aforementioned mornings, after I "apply" her dose of rouge and mascara, I send her to the door-length mirror in Ollie's room to see what it looks like and exclaim, "Oh! How pretty!"  I guess that stuck - and so now I'm crying.  I'm crying while my poor babe is just trying to catch a break from the chaos of this flu bug.


So my neighbor was right - I heard it now thinking back - such snapshots are temporary and fleeting.  Grab each one!


[Author's sidebar:  I do struggle with comments towards my kids like "pretty" or "smart" or "cute" ad nasueum, because I don't desire constructs like these for them to be solely identified - by me, or anyone else for that matter.  But in a pinch of what my heart feels to be truthful?  No problem :) ]