Little Adventures

Have you noticed that no matter how organized you are, no matter how far you plan ahead, no matter how perfect your day planner is, or how set your family routine, there are always little unexpected adventures that end up defining your day?

The littlest parts of the day, such as waking up, brushing teeth, getting dressed, driving, getting ready for bed, or hearing a story are all individual adventures, quickly forgotten in the rush of the day, but, in the moment, all-consuming.  There are precious little moments that I long to capture and hold in my heart forever.  Waking up with the Boy Badgers jumping into my bed, laughing and playing.  Sighing at Baby as she bathes herself in yogurt in her high chair.  Little Brother Badger putting on his clothes backwards, and being so adamant about fixing it himself.  Big Brother Badger pretending to swim like a shark in the bathtub.  And there are other moments that I don't mind letting go.  Such as the Boy Badgers' endless complaining over their dinner not being pizza.  Trying to stuff Baby into her car seat wearing her puffy winter coat.  Little Brother Badger whining over having to use a big boy cup at the table.

It's the adventure that makes me so tired.  It's the adventure that makes me so happy!  It's the little adventures that are so hard to remember a year later, or even that night.  Big-ticket items such as birthdays, holidays, vacations, first steps, first words: they are obvious.  But they are not the whole story.  They are not life.  Life is the boo-boo and the band-aid.  Life is the blown-out diaper.  It is the way my child's hair falls across his forehead.  It is the important bill that was cut up by a boy with a pair of scissors.  That snort that my son makes when he's being funny.  A cupboard emptied out all over the kitchen.  My husband walking through the house with all three kids hanging onto his legs while everyone squeals with laughter.  A trash can that always seems to be full.  The song on the radio that works so perfectly for a spontaneous family dance party.

Who could remember every little thing?  Who could document every little adventure in a day?  I feel a sense of sadness that not a journal, nor a camera, can truly capture these moments as they pass, spontaneous and unscripted.  They are sweeter because they are so transient.  They are meant to be lived, not caught and held.  They are like the wind between your fingers.