We’re Tired

Charlie and Chanelle decided to remove church clothes at about 12:43 p.m. and replace them with p.j’s. . . six hours before bedtime.  Meadow is mimicking everything big sister does.  Chad is attempting to take a nap and is being met with resistances in every way possible.  When I took this picture he had just removed that little pink and purple baby bed off his head after Chanelle had so delicately placed it there.  Charlie is talking a mile a minute and I think the conversation went something like this. . .

Daddy, can we wrestle?  Can we play basketball?  Hey, let’s go outside and play! Let’s have a Bley Blades tournament?  Can we watch a movie?  Will you time me?  How about soccer? Can we make a living room tent?  Want to play hide-n-seek?

(I’ll just give you that 30 second snippet of the conversation, because if I told you more you’d probably get tired and not be able to carry on with your day.)

Chad was patient and softly informed him. . . Charlie, chill out.  Let me rest for a bit.

We’re quite certain that Charlie’s tiny body contains the amount of energy of your average Chuck E Cheese restaurant hosting 17 birthday parties for toddlers on a Saturday afternoon–with sugary drinks.

RARE calm moment

Earlier in the day Chad and I had the brief exchange where we attempted to remember what we looked like before we had dark circles under our eyes and what it felt like to sleep in in the morning.  We remembered back to when our house was clean the majority of the time and when tiny socks on the floor weren’t so common that we don’t even notice them anymore. 

Woe for us, I know. 

Every now and then we have these moments when exhaustion overwhelms us and, for a moment, we live vicariously through our past.  Back to the days when most of our conversations didn’t revolve around homework, dinner, bedtimes, and bath times.  When we think about it really hard we can almost remember a time when we weren’t tired.

However, we are pretty rational people and when we really get down to it, we realize the gift of today.  These days are so fleeting.  The rapid-fire questions and requests will soon be a thing of the past and I have no doubt that we will look upon these days as some of the best of our lives.

Every now and then the reality of this strikes me with all of it’s truth and it’s almost more than I can bear.

Like this morning when I took Meadow from her crib. She immediately pointed to her books and after making her selections,  we sat down in the rocking chair to read.  She snuggled into me as I read the words from I’ll Love You Forever.  As I sang the chorus in the book, she began to “sing” along and I was overcome. 

I’ll love you forever,
I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living,
My baby you’ll be. . . 


I could barely finish the book as I felt the weight of the words as clearly as I felt the weight of her tiny body in my lap.  How quickly this goes.  How quickly it’s going.

And so I’m telling myself to memorize it.  All of it.  The smell of Meadow’s hair as she sits in my lap.  The sweetness of Chanelle’s tiny voice. (Seriously, I wish you could hear it.) And the enthusiasm in Charlie’s. . . everything. 

I have no doubt that Chad and I will revisit the days of “when we used to” again and again over the next several years. . . or even later today.  However, I guess I just want to be sure that I never lose sight of the preciousness of all that is right in front of me. 

Like my Dad recently said to me. . . there is no greater purpose.We only get one go around, right?

The most terrifying day of your life is the day the first one is born.
Your life, as you know it … is gone. Never to return. But they learn
how to walk, and they learn how to talk … and you want to be with
them. And they turn out to be the most delightful people you will ever
meet in your life.  

–  Bob, Lost in Translation