Two years ago, I walked into my bathroom to find this.
Charlotte's Croc filled with acorns.
There is no story behind this photo, no explanation other than this is what happens when children live in your home. I laughed when I saw it, which is a blessing because had it been a different day or different hour I might have thrown those acorns away and chucked the shoe into her room, annoyed with how her stuff invades every corner. But on that day, at that moment, I loved it. It was quirky, confusing, and so childlike, so perfect. I took a picture because one day she won't leave a shoe filled with acorns in my bathroom.
Every so often, I've thought of that picture and try to mentally dogear other moments that ooze with childhood. But now I can't remember most of them. I wish I had written some down. I wish I had taken a picture.
Some have been ridiculous scenes, announcing to the world that children have been busy living in this home.
Some have been irritating moments, reminding me I laid down my preferences when I chose to be a mom.
And some moments have been so precious they steal my breath to whisper, "Yes, you really are a mom."
I want to notice those moments. I want to remember those snippet of life.
Because one day she won't lay on the floor doing puzzles in her rain boots and underwear; she won't decorate every dresser knob in her room with a sock, and she won't ask if we can buy matching dresses.
Because one day he won't spread out blankets and pretend to be a pig rolling in the mud; he won't insist on sleeping with trucks in his bed, and he won't ask "You go oomba?" each time he sees me grab my neon yellow Zumba shoes.
Today I will notice those moments.
#becauseonedayyouwont
