Here are Drew, Adriana, and Jonah - ages 3, 9, and 6. On this particular day it was very hot outside. But because this park is in such a beautiful area, none of us seemed to mind. After our usual snack of water and crackers, the kids leapt form the car, running for the playscape. I worked on my photography as they frolicked. They played for about 30 minutes, and then asked - as always - "Mom, can we have a race to the car?". On this day Jonah won for the first time. He was so proud. Drew always participates, his short little legs flying so fast underneath him I can hardly see them, just like a little cartoon. He always loses, and never gets upset over it. Love that about him. And who can blame him for wanting to touch every tree along the way? I had put Sasha in the car so that I could safely take this picture, but here is one of her by her cute little lonesome:
Here she is enjoying a few minutes in the swing. She doesn't like to be in it for long, but she always asks. I love to grab her ankles and tickle her tummy when she swings forward towards me. Maybe even sneak a little peck on her nose. That always makes her giggle.
I've already forgotten what they looked like as I tucked them in that night. And this was just a few days ago. It really makes me think about what I spend my time mulling over when I am with them. I want to try and internalize more of the joy I feel in each moment with them. Time is precious and I want to remember the precious times!
*Inspiration for this post came from Russell M. Ballard's talk, Daughters of God, in the April General Conference for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints:
"Author Anna Quindlen reminds us not to rush past the fleeting moments. She said: “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less”(Loud and Clear , 10–11).
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