Musings on my family life, just because.

It's all going by so fast, this lovely life of mine. I turn around and see my kids growing, growing... so fast, so fast. They are adorable, and loud. And they crave my attention and I want to give them every last ounce of it. Only, I get tired and they do too. And then we are not always so happy with each other. But I love them so much and sometimes just can't stand to think how quickly life is sailing by us! Almost like a dream, I think.

Tonight Camille would not settle. She had two long naps today, after returning from a long trip yesterday. Then she was up late, and fell asleep in my arms after I nursed her at 10:30pm. But then she woke up as I wrapped her up for bed and acted like she was ready for another few hours. She fussed and squawked and got up twice more to have a little more milk, and a little more time with Dad and Mom before Brian finally wrestled her through her "stormy" spell before sleep. He calls it her "storm before the calm," as it often happens this way.

In the midst of Camille's little drama, Samantha woke up in her "half-sleep" way and wandered around the house sniffling about something she lost. She was in her purple polka-dot nightgown, and was wandering from room to room with a confused look. She was obviously not really awake, and was quite irrational.

It used to alarm me when she would do this. But now it's just kind of amusing and sweet to me. She acts like a little girl -- littler than she is. And she says funny things that don't make much sense. And tonight, she let me lead her back to bed and lay by her for a few minutes, snuggled up right next to me while I scratched her back. All her whimpering subsided and she was still and comforted by my touch and closeness.That doesn't usually happen with my precocious 8-year-old, I'm just sayin'. I want to remember this night and the way I felt about her as I laid beside her. I stroked her hair and kissed the back of her neck, like I used to do when she was a toddler. She's never been very snuggly, so I've learned to cherish these rare moments with my girlie.

Earlier, after dinner, we went on a family walk/bike-ride around our neighborhood. The kids rode their bikes and Brian and I walked and pushed the stroller with Camille. It rained this evening, so everything was fresh and the temp was cooler and nice. I loved watching Natalie on her bike with her little round, purple helmet -- those little legs going up and down so fast, so fast. She kept turning around to make sure Brian and I were still nearby. Her punch-stained smile and shirt only added to her cuteness. And Spencer, of course, raced way ahead, then circled back to show off his skills. I looked around and counted my babies, each one. One, two, three, four. All of them here, all of them happy. These are little treasures in my life -- these little people, these moments with them, and with Brian, where all of us are loving life together.


I recently finished a book about a family who lived in Berlin during WWII. They suffered through some pretty terrible things. The author/narrator was a teenager during most of the story. She said something that has been in my thoughts a lot lately... At one point, she felt so very sorry for herself and her family, for all their suffering. But then, she looked back at her happy childhood, her blessed family life and her past memories of so many good things. She said she realized then, that no matter what happened in the future, no matter how terrible the war was and what she or her family lost -- no one could take those sweet memories of her past from her; they were hers to cherish forever.

I loved that thought, and I needed to hear that perspective. It has helped me to pull out of a hole, I think. I've had such a hard time since Wade died, often focusing on the loss -- and the potential loss of what I have. His passing has made me feel extremely vulnerable and a loss of control, like anything I have can be taken from me at any moment, without warning. I've focused on the fear and the sadness of it all. Not just losing my brother, but more damaging to me has been my focus on the possibility of losing all the other dear people in my life -- the inevitability of death. It has not been good for me, I know. And I have been praying to change my perspective somehow.

The words from this woman who suffered terribly during WWII have helped me to refocus and be more grateful, instead of fearful: It's true that I didn't get to say goodbye to Wade, and I will feel the pain of his loss throughout my life, until I see him again someday. But I have so many beautiful, wonderful memories of him that have shaped me and will continue to be my treasures throughout my life. And, every day with the many other people in my life whom I cherish and adore -- every day is another sweet memory and a gift for me, something that no one can take away from me, ever. I am blessed. And I always will be blessed by my sweet past, present, and future -- with so many dear people to love, here or in the next phase of life, beyond death. I will brighten my faith in the future, and cherish my past.

And now, with so many "deep thoughts" running around in my head, I will go to bed, so I can get up early and exercise. :) "Good night, void." (A quote from "You've Got Mail," in case you didn't recognize that last sentence.)