Wouldn't it be nice to make time stand still? I am really stand still. To the point where you could take in every part of a specific moment--where you could somehow bottle up all the emotions, sounds, smells, and words from an exact time. This was that moment--it was fleeting, but perfect. They were cuddling and laughing with one another while watching Blues Clues. He kept kissing her and telling her that he loved her, she would giggle all the while trying to make her flimsy arms grab his face. The moment was long enough to capture a picture or two, but then it was gone.
Moments like that are like the stages of life. Short and brief--but lasting in impression. Just yesterday, Addison starting to babble--the once screaming baby who'd just found her voice now says "da-da" incessantly. My only reassurance is that she doesn't understand what she is saying yet. I still have hope that her first word will be "mama."
Even Brecken seems to transforming before my eyes. Last night when tucking him into bed I realized my little boy was also no longer a baby. No diapers, no naps, no longer running like a toddler--he has become a tiny (and feisty) little boy. While the days may seem too long and the nights too short it seems like each stage they go through happens too quickly.
The years together have also been etched on the faces and hearts of John and me--oh, we've had our ups and downs, but there have also been stages that I wish I freeze in time. We've both become a little wiser, learned that differences are what makes a marriage worth fighting for everyday. The pounds gained are signs of contentment and hours spent making and eating meals together. The trials have shown us that faith is the cornerstone to moving forward. The once shy boy and overly flamboyant girl have morphed into learning-as-they-go parents. As I am sure that is true for all of you too.
Time has been good--but I'd still like a machine to stop it for awhile...