Tiny Moments. . .

I think I was in the fifth grade when our family took a trip to Disney World.  I believe we spent 4 days at the Park.  For several months leading up to our trip my brother, sister, mom, dad and I saved every dime that passed through our fingers and tucked them away in one of those big Crayola banks which we had decorated boldly with the name “Disney Dimes.” Our collected dimes would be split between my siblings and I and used as spending money for our trip.  I remember our Disney Dime bank like I laid eyes on it yesterday.  I remember the numerous “family meetings” we had as we built up excitement for our trip.  I remember the anticipation and the countdown.  I remember boarding our plane and sitting in a seat across from my Dad as he quietly chanted “Goofy, Goofy, Goofy!”

When I think about our visit to the “Happiest Place on Earth”, though, I remember very little.  I don’t remember rides, princesses, characters, or parades.  I don’t remember fireworks, or food or the joys of Epcot or the Magic Kingdom.  Somehow, those memories have faded. 

You know what I remember, though?  I remember getting our picture taken with Goofy.  Like it  happened yesterday I remember a group of people rushing the big dog through a crowd, obviously intent on getting to his destination.  I’m not sure how it happened but I think my Dad used his superpowers and somehow Goofy agreed to stop for a picture with our family.  I remember hearing the story afterward. . . how my Dad whispered to Mr. Goofy that “Everyone thinks Mickey runs this place, but I know it’s really you.”  I remember that being the moment when Goofy closed the gap and draped his arms around my Dad’s shoulders.  There he stood and posed for a picture as if our family had been his final destination.  I can still see that picture in my mind–My dad, my siblings and I flanked on one side by Goofy and all of us wearing smiles that perfectly captured our glee. 

A tiny moment embedded in my heart forever.

I am prone to getting stressed at the lack of time for “big things”.  Big trips, big experiences, big events.  As the years go by and sand seems to slip through an hour glass of life at lightening speed I realize more and more that the little moments are the most important.  The little moments are what matter.  It’s the little moment stick with us. 

I totally dig that because, for us, little, not big moments, color our days. 

This week we picked strawberries for the first time.  I’m thinking this will become a new tradition for us.  Charlie and Chanelle loved every second of it and I had to pull them away from the fields so we wouldn’t spend our entire food budget on strawberries.

I’m telling you. . . if you have never picked strawberries it is a must-do summer activity.  The kids are already begging to go back.

Almost seven pounds of strawberries for seven dollars?  Um, yes please.  I do have one warning, however.  Discipline is required. . . more strawberries than I would like to admit were consumed on the way home.  Even so, we still had enough left to make Jam. 

I had an excellent helper. . . Well, sort of. . .

We rushed from one thing to the next during this entire week.  Often, I get frustrated and flustered when this happens.  As I look back, though, I realize how many of these tiny moments are tucked into that little spot labeled “will not be forgotten”.  Like the track meet this week when Chanelle got her very first medal and Charlie smiled the whole way down the track unable to feign a competitive spirit. 

And Meadow watched from the sidelines fluctuating between content and miserable but obviously overjoyed whenever her brother or sister approached her.

Earlier this week, Meadow discovered her shadow.  There she sat on the living room floor flailing her arms and watching her movement against the light.  Charlie, Chanelle, and I sat and laughed and played with her as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

It’s not wrong to play shadow puppets on Little Sister, right?

. . . because it was quite fun.

There are days when I see the adventures, crafts, and creativity that seems to permeate from other Mom’s.  Since adding Meadow, most days I’m doing my best to keep us all fed, clothed and bathed by bedtime.  Maybe this is why I am doing my best to hold on to the little moments of togetherness that we have.  The moments when we take time to sit and just be together. 

I stood back and watched the three of them laughing and playing together and it was so easy to see that nothing could replace this.  No vacation, no adventure, no event. . . nothing could replace the preciousness of these tiny moments of togetherness that really don’t fade with time.

When I think about my years growing up I remember going for a run with my Dad, sitting at the table late into the evening chatting with my Mom, playing Barbie’s on a blanket in the backyard with my sister, or driving to the mall with my brother.  None of these memories are big, but they are mine and they are with me to stay. 

You can’t convince me otherwise. . . the tiny moments. . . they matter.