Yesterday we awoke to a light blanket of snow on the ground. The children bundled up in warm hats, coats, gloves and snow boots and trudged off to school. I drifted toward the kitchen and the breakfast dishes grateful that the big daddy was on school drop-off duty and the little one was occupied with reading books. Warm water and bubbles filled the sink as I rhythmically dipped each dish in, washed, rinsed, set to dry. The kind of known rhythm that you don't have to think about. Similar to how I feel about knitting...click click click.
The feel this time of year varies from busy, too busy, to calm and quiet. As I dried my hands and thought about what I "needed" to do that day I let my mind wander to what I would "love" to do that day. Just a moment of bliss. I'm pretty sure it included a fire, some knitting, good friends, a latte, a nap...not even in that particular order. Though I ended up doing those "other things" throughout the day, I did think back to that earlier moment and smiled. I realized that sometimes it's just acknowledging what we love rather than dropping everything. Then, who knows, the opportunity might arise and I'll know just what I want to do.
This past weekend we attempted our holiday card picture. You know the one where you hope to get all four children looking in mostly the same direction at the same time. It proves to be a challenge, I mean opportunity, every year. Though somehow in between the "look over here" , "no not at your sister", "smile everyone", "not that smile you imp" I have to laugh. Laugh and know that these are the real moments of family. The things they will look back at and hopefully find humorous.
My three brothers and I were subjected to many, many holiday photo shoots. Although I've frequently wished for the video of between the shots it is something we talk about often. The smiling faces of the four of us forever captured. My mom doing a dance/snapping/arm waving to get us to smile.
The day we chose for the holiday photo was COLD. Red nose kind of cold. The kind of cold that had the children smiling fast so we could get back to the car. It all worked. The moment captured.
The irony of that whole adventure is that I'm finding that my favorite photos are the ones where the children aren't looking at the camera. Rather they are giggling at each other or laughing as the big daddy danced behind me. Those are the photos that really tell the story of us.
It's the moments you see. That is what I want to remember. That is what I will treasure.