Wednesday, September 2, 2015

The Curls...and other Things

These curls.  I never want to forget these curls.  I don't know that she'll have them forever (my hair doesn't have a wave in it), but for now, she does.  And, I love them.

I love the way Carter talks with his slobbery "s" and I know it will be corrected soon, but I don't want to forget the way he says "yesh" for "yes" or "schnakes" for "snakes."

Peter and his "Let me tell you someping" or "Can I tell you someping?" before he gets out what he really wants to say.

His grin.  John Paul's crooked little grin and squinty eyes that scream ornery...the way he does that before he is about to do something he knows he shouldn't and how he responds with, "I wasn't doing anyfing."

This week, Sophie is clinging to me unlike she ever has before.  While I've tried and tried to get things done, being sometimes mentally absent with the present and concerned about way too many things going on in my head, her embrace around my leg and cry of "mom mom" brings me back into the reality of this precious moment that will not last.

I don't want to forget how intuitive Carter is and how he just knows things (special things) that make me realize these little ones aren't too far from Heaven.

While the crying can grate on my nerves more often than I should let it, I want to remember the tenderness of my Peter's heart and how deeply he keeps things.

I want to remember the toddle of John his little legs carry him so cutely and quickly from one place to another...especially when he's running to give me a hug.

I want to remember how Carter loves to make up jokes and how quickly his brothers repeat those jokes as their own, changing a word (and the entire meaning) yet being so proud of their humor.

His thick little body, and how I worry that I'm feeding Peter the wrong thing...yet how quickly I remember that he is a carbon copy of me and my own stout little physique at that age.  I want to remember how precious he is and how much I'll miss that baby-ness when it's gone.

I want to remember Sophie's surprised she does it when I get her out of bed, when she sees her Daddy fixing her breakfast and when all of her brothers race to give her a morning hug.

Their "I love yous" and how quick they are to say it even at the end of a hard day, as if they don't even remember the correction they received just minutes before.

Carter's determined spirit.  Peter's gentleness.  John Paul's wanting to be the life of the party.  Sophie's spunkiness.

It's days like the last few that I need to remember all of this.  It's in the moments when I feel like all I'm doing is disciplining them (in ways at times that feel like I'm accomplishing nothing).  It's when they all need me (and scream it!) at once.  It's when I question decisions we're making or paths we're taking.  It's in the moments when the weight of the world can seem so heavy that I need to remember their faces...their goodness...their little souls.

Because, in them, there is pure joy.  In those little cries for help, there is a reminder that I'm their momma, and that's all they need for now.  

And, they (plus their Daddy) are all I really need, too.


  1. This was beautiful, Britt! You're right, we all should take the time to remember these little quirks about our kids because all too soon, though we are in the trenches now, they will grow up before our very eyes and we will long to look back and have lists like this to remember them by.

  2. So very beautiful. One day in the future when they are bigger and not as needy, you will read this post and it will all come rushing back to you and you will be so glad you wrote it down. It's so hard to remember all the little details of babyhood when you are in the thick of it but it's so nice to have a reminder of how they once were.

  3. (and scream it!) oh yes. Beautiful, Britt.

  4. Love, love, love this. I never want to forget those little things too, kids are just so precious and sometimes I have to really remind myself that they're not going to ask me to watch TV with them forever, or play tent under the coffee table with them forever, such a small moment in a long life.