This moment.  This bleary-eyed, early morning moment, is only here once.

It’s easy to forget, and settle into a routine of wishing.  Sometimes I wish the baby would sleep through the night.   I really wish Sophiapea would get through her latest ‘difficult toddler’ phase. Somehow I wish there was both more and less time in the day.

But this moment, this coffee-fueled, quiet moment of morning is only here once.

Sophia will be happy and sweet today, for the most part.  She will also throw tantrums that try my soul, and make short work of re-messying everything I clean.  Klaus will win me with his smiles, and make it difficult to deal effectively with Sophia in her dramatic moments by his seemingly incessant need to eat.  But the thing I’m going to remember–the thought fueling my reset button–is that this moment, that is consumed with childhood and babies, is only here once.

I’m going to look into the chocolate brown eyes of my toddler and remember that she is only two before I snap at her about something inconsequential.  Because I won’t remember these heavy-lidded, exhaustion-toned mornings in a few more years–I’ll remember the sweet moments with my babies

So, my now-cold cup of coffee is lifted in toast to this morning.  Here’s to coloring, dancing music, and beautiful princesses.  Here’s to the weird little things Sophiapea fixates on until I verbally acknowledge her fascination.  Here’s to the sweet warmth of a snuggly baby, and the smiles that greet me.  Here’s to the piles of dirty laundry and the messy floors.

This sweet, chaotic, kind of sticky, definitely sleepy moment is only here once.