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those little moments in my day when i feel like I have no air to breathe. like someone is standing on my chest not letting my lungs fill completely. it’s those moments, usually tiny- minuscule to any other casual on-looker, but to me I am left overwhelmingly grateful. when I see their eyes sparkle and I’m reminded that they are happy and healthy and forever they are all mine. without them my life has no meaning. those little moments, the moments I cherish and often dedicate whole blog posts on (therefore automatically dubbed important!), it’s those moments that mean the most to me. those little moments that make my life big. because of those moments my life has purpose and it’s those moments that happen so fast there is no time to capture it with my camera. those moments that i quietly plead with myself to remember forever.                                 *** this evening was like most other early evenings. every little person and four-legged was buzzing around with excitement as daddy just walked in the door. two of the four cook tops on my stove and my crockpot are busy cooking our dinner. Addi’s favorite dance music is blaring from two tiny kitchen speakers. she is at the island creating some sort of construction paper-glue ‘mess’ while her constant jabber of jumbled song lyrics and joyful tidbits from her day entertain me while I cook. tonight was just a little different. different in that, instead of Landon chasing Kya around on his car, screaming, “I chase you Kya, I chase you.”, steering around me or through me, (I am the annoying clutter in his race track), he is standing tall and tippy-toed on his little chair, looking cute as ever in his hand-me-down baby carhartt bibs, the same jammie top he wore to bed last night and his favorite rain boots, (that he wears most of the day, just in case he comes in contact with a puddle that needs jumped in to)… in his little hands he holds his most prized possession – his red Cars fishing pole. for the several weeks he has owned it he has been a big part of most of his days and it has reeled in many pretend “fishes”. tonight, surprisingly for the very first time, he goes after the only real specimen in our home that isn’t covered in fur,  it occupies the book shelf in our dining room and he is the same pond-rescued goldfish the kids saved from imminent frozen death this fall. “Mama, I NEED HELP. I can’t catched me goldfish.” it’s a tiny slice of time, a blurb in life that is gone without a second having passed, these seconds leave me breathless.

and other times this week …  out of the corner of my eye I see addi running out of landon’s room wearing nothing but a diaper, cracking up with tears running down her face as her little brother runs behind her saying “you’s a little baby, you’s a little baby.” for those days when bedtime seems like a lifetime away. when after a moment of them left alone in the bathtub leads to gleeful screams and a bathroom floor covered in water.  for those days when the mundane creeps in and tries to steal my joy. i’s those little moments i sometime need to cling to, look forward to. those days when I wonder what it may be like out in the world with other adult humans. i know that no matter what my day may hold, it will surely gift to me a little moment that will take my breath away. leaving me utterly grateful and happy for the conscience and un-conscience choices in my life past that made me a mama to these two crazy wild animals. and these brief moments too… on his back his red cape hung. I had just tied up the garbage bag and it sat ready to be taken out. I watched as he used every muscle in his little body to try and lift out the very full bag of garbage. He said while struggling to breathe because he is using all his tiny might to lift, “Mama, me superpowers cannot lift this.” He just stumbled out of bed. His hair always stands straight up. He always drags his blankey behind him. He climbed up on the island chair next to his sleepy-eyed sister. He said, “Good morning sis, do you love me?” She smiles and says, “Yes, I love you.” With all the early morning glee he can muster he said, “YOU DO! You do love me?!” I found Addi quiet (that never happens) and alone in her room. she lay on her back, leg crossed one over the other, she was reading her favorite horse poem book. above her a self-created, self-designed blanket lean-to attached to her bed posts with countless pony tails. I said, “You expecting rain?” “No, it’s for shade.”