Its not that life really seems to move at a frenetic pace right now. Partly, thats a choice that we've made as a family. We've had the luxury of many low key family days this Fall. And its been good for us. Good for our little family.
Its just that there are certain hours of the day that seem to be filled with frenzy. Like the hours between 4:30pm and 7:30pm. Those hours right after rest time. Right during suppertime. And right through bedtime. Frenzy. By the time we're in the final steps (of what has somehow become a zillion step process) of getting Buster and his baby sister horizontal in bed, I'm spent. And I'm definitely not "living in the moment". In fact, I find myself far too often living in the moments that begin with 7:31pm.
The other night, we were somewhere between the steps of one and a zillion in the bedtime dance. Buster got it in his mind that we needed to (ie. must) go outside to see the "bright shiny moon".
Somehow, I relented.
With a sigh, I shoved my feet into my snow boots and picked up my jammie-clad boy. As I walked out the door, I sighed, again, as I saw the bag of trash, sitting on our front stoop. I sighed as I looked at the bedraggled crew of outdoor toys, mostly covered with a pile of dirty snow. I sighed as we walked to the middle of our icy parking lot. "Just a little further, Momma, the moon is hiding behind the trees." I sighed, again, as I looked around our little neighborhood and noticed the half-strewn Christmas lights (flashing, of course) of some neighbors who seemed to have given their decorating a fifty percent effort.
And I stood still as two long legs that have become much more boy than baby wrapped around my waist. He put both arms around my neck as he craned his to the sky. "I see stars too!!!" And he was silent for a moment before he whispered reverently into my ear: "Its soooo beautiful. Thank you Momma".
And for just a moment, the frenzy ceased. And my breath caught. Momentarily, I saw the moon, and the stars, and the world through the living-in-the-moment eyes of my three year old.
And I exhaled. Slow, quiet, peaceful.
For just a moment.
"Momma. I'm freezing my bippy!! Let's go inside!" And in we went and onto the next step towards a zillion.