One minute ago

I've been thinking a lot lately about how quickly time goes by.

This time last year I was anxiously counting down the days until O was born. I was begging time to fly by. Please put my baby in my arms, let him be here, safe. I spent my days waiting for the future, blaming my exhaustion and physical discomfort for not living in the now.

I always hate admitting this, but J spent a lot of time in front of the tv. I had always, since the day he was born, been that mom that constantly entertained. I loved thinking of new things to do with him, new places to go. Just an afternoon at the park would brighten his entire day. I swore things would change once the baby was born.

Then O was here. And life was much more complicated.

I love that newborn phase. The sweet baby sighs, the soft, wrinkly skin, the body that curls into a tiny ball still trying to figure out why he's not contained anymore, the way they sleep anywhere and love to be held. I spent J's newborn days just staring at him. Marveling at the miracle that he was. Anyone who knows me will tell you that my absolute favorite thing about having a baby is the naps. Baby naps are the best. J and I would curl around each other and sleep for hours. Matt would come home from work to find us sleeping on the couch, or J passed out in my arms while I read a book. My 3 months of maternity leave with him were the best 3 months of my life (ok, ok, other than that first month when he was in the hospital).

But with O, there wasn't any time to spend admiring him. I was learning to nurse, and juggling another child who needed help adjusting. Somehow my plan to love every minute of those early days disappeared. I focused on who was sleeping when, did I feed them both, when was the last time he got a new diaper? It started to take an hour just to gather everything necessary to get out of the house. And my plan to start taking J fun places disappeared too. I thought If I can just get out of the newborn phase things will start to be more fun. And sadly, I'll confess again that J spent more time in front of the tv.

I felt badly. And talked to some friends. I was reassured "it's normal while you're adjusting" and somehow forced the mommy-guilt (which, if you ask me, is the worst kind of guilt imaginable) aside.

So I've found myself wishing for the future. I keep thinking when O learns to walk things will be more fun. They can play together, climb the jungle gym at the park, they can chase each other in the backyard, go swimming in the summer, and learn to be best friends.

Last night O woke up much earlier than usual. Matt and I were actually still awake, watching tv. We glanced at each other. Both of us were dreading this. Why was he awake? He would never go back to sleep! This night was going to be terrible. Since Matt is the one who always sleeps with O if he wakes in the night, I figured it was my turn to go hold him. So I reluctantly climbed the stairs, walked into his bedroom and picked him up. He was visibly exhausted and extremely upset about something. I started to rock him. He started to relax. He did that little hiccup-sigh. You know, the one where they start to transition from crying to calm. That little hiccup-sigh never fails to break my heart.

And as he relaxed in my arms it dawned on me that I was missing the little things. The daily joys of every day life that make everything special. There was my sweet baby, snuggled tight against me, sucking his chubby little thumb.

I marveled at his baby cheeks. Those cheeks get comments everywhere we go.


I marveled at that soft spot between the head and neck, where the hair is soft and fuzzy, where he always smiles if you nuzzle him.


He fell into a deep sleep and his thumb popped out of his mouth. I marveled at that hand. The sweet little fingers that grab Matt's face, on both sides, when he comes home from work as if to say "Hi daddy, I missed you and I love you".


His little mouth smiled in sleep and I melted. That little mouth has just learned to say Mama. He never misses an opportunity to yell for me now that he's figured out I'll come running. During the day it's exhausting. But at night, in his sleep, I missed that wonderful word.


I've lived a lot of my life waiting for the future. Even as a child I couldn't wait to grow up, get married, have kids of my own. Now that it's here, I still keep waiting for the future. Crawling, walking, teaching J to swim, that Disney trip we're planning for October, the list goes on and on.

Thankfully, my little Buggy reminded me last night to enjoy the NOW. Focus on the day to day beauties that this world holds because I'll never get these moments back. So today I vow to do that. And I'm getting started with a list of the wonderful things I love about my life.

I love....

the way J always asks if he can match Buggy.


the way J never, ever fails to brings toys to O whenever he sees him sitting on the floor.


the way Buggy will only take a nap if it's in my bed (that is a comfy bed. And yes, I'm aware the SIDS police would arrest me).


the way J always says "picture me!" whenever he sees the camera.


funny faces.



watching them play together.


that my big boy is such a trooper and a constant reminder of everything I have to be thankful for.


that little thumb sucker. *sigh*


the rare commodity that is a snow day in Georgia.


big blue eyes.


babies that can't figure out how to sit back down from a standing position.


Valentine's pancakes, made with love.


the way my wonderful, loving husband will always drop what he's doing to play with our boys.


I found this quote that really hit home for me and I thought it was a fitting way to end this post.

Nothing is as far away as one minute ago.