The Moment

Mortality being what it is, and being the somewhat scattered sleep deprived person I am, it is far too easy to lose the little moments of life. The sister of one of my friends recently lost her little one in a tragic accident and she has, rightly so, been very grateful for the tender moments she squeezed out of her brief time with her daughter and has urged all who will hear to do the same. And so I’ve been mulling a bit about the how of that and for me at least, it has something to do with reveling in where my children are now and who they are as individuals and not pushing so much for them to “get it” (although when the it is why not to hurt each other, why to do what I ask etc etc it is ever so difficult to be patient) or to change the more quirky aspects of their personalities to make life easier for me. Examples:

Meet CW's idea of "hurrying to eat his breakfast" and why I can't buy fruity cheerios to eat when we're in a hurry. He is a very particular child. He sorts. Some may even call this tendency of his somewhat OCD. It can be very aggravating when I need him to hurry and eat so we can leave and this is what I get instead. But I love the way his mind works, the way he has to sort out how many of each character and color of Scooby Doo gummies he has before he can begin eating, the way he lines up tinker toys by size, shape and color to put them away, that he knows his own mind and desires so very well.
And then there is this side of CW:


He is so playful and impish, some (me?) would even say pesky at times. I've written about his grin and and it is killer. This particular outfit of his is all stuff he snagged from his dad's closet and he put it together very particularly and then pranced and laughed and played in his "dad" persona. We weren't too terribly late for church as a result.
And then there's this face:

Bam, who is a very verbal 2.5 yr old and has warmed considerably to the idea of the polite request, comes to me today and says "Can you come to my house, please?"

This is his house; he lovingly built it all by himself with the kids' computer table, family room chair cushions, an ottoman and some throw blankets and he has played happily in and around his "house" on and off all day. He is such a sweet kid and only just beginning to develop pesky tendencies.
And then we have the divine Miss Em. She is trying so hard to not be my little lump of an immobile baby. Today she did this:


That's right, she is trying to crawl, which means the world of the infamous "lego leavers" in our house must now come to an end. But I am so wistful about all the other things that are coming to an end, namely her babyhood. She is so quickly developing the ability to express her desires: refusing food with a clenched mouth, batting happily at some things and pulling other things to her and expressing an independence I'm not ready for:
"I can do it myself!"
How do I capture and keep these moments in my heart and memory (and some of them on my SD card as pictures) and still attend to the business of "running the family", ie: making sure we have clothes and food and are reasonably on time to the various places that require our presence from school to orthodontists, piano and soccer, church, work and meetings? How do I have fun and enjoy these moments of their developing personalities and not miss them? So far, I seem to cycle through attending to some details on some days and other details on other days, so the neglect gets passed around--some days I am fun and some days have to be all business and some days we just do our best to hold our heads up. But it is seeming too much a blur when looked at from behind and I don't like that. I'm hoping that in the trying, I will get some sort of brownie points and in the resurrection, my memory will be refocused and refined and all the things that I have placed there will be recalled with more clarity and calm and I will be able to enjoy them again. But in the meantime, any ideas?
No, I haven't forgotten about CE and Z. They're just back on track at school and their advancing and progressing isn't as picture friendly these days, unless you count the pants Z keeps growing out of. They both have ever advancing lists of things to do when they are older (ala the movie Big). So, I guess I need to figure out how to hold onto the moments so that I can teach them to stop wishing them away. So again, any ideas?