What I Always Hope To Remember

We were on our way to the library one afternoon, and on our drive I decided to let the kids look through the books we were about to return one last time.  They both sat back there so quietly; peacefully engaged in their books.  It seems so simple, but it was one of those moments where I couldn't believe it was actually happening, where I felt like the absolute luckiest person in the world to get to be the mother of these two children.  There was no music playing, just the sounds of pages turning, Selah whispering phrases of a story here and there, and Owen squealing or grunting while pointing at pictures that piqued his interest.  I almost contemplated passing by the library and eventually doing a U-turn further down the road because I didn't want that moment to end, I wanted to stay in that peaceful place forever.  But, I didn't, I turned into the library, knowing we had a short amount of time to return old books and pick out new ones before heading home to make dinner.  So, we pulled into the library and parked.  Peaceful moment, over.

Our time at the library was typical. Good? Yes, but typical, let me explain.

There was the challenge of keeping Owen content in his stroller, which only lasts so long, then, once out of the stroller, the struggle to keep him from pulling unwanted books off the shelf, stealing others personal belongings, or climbing on tables resumes.  Selah is also guilty of pulling off unwanted books, grabbing whatever she sees and piling all kinds of books into the stroller, eventually causing others to tumble to the ground, which inevitably, as I bend down to pick up the books, Owen has taken the opportunity to climb either a stool to the computers or the chair to the window ledge which contains several clear signs that say THANK YOU FOR NOT STANDING, RUNNING, WALKING ON LEDGE... ehem, you're welcome?! sometimes? Selah is also begging repeatedly in my ear to play on the computers, which eventually become unoccupied and both kids clamor over to the screens flashing bright, fun images of beloved characters like Elmo and Dora.  Selah instantly becomes engaged in her game and Owen bangs on the keyboard, pulls at the wires, sings a loud, jolly, tongue-tied tune while peeking over the top of the screen at big sister.  In between all of this I've met a new friend, another half-crazed mom of two young children, and we try to carry on a conversation while simultaneously understanding each others inability to do so, while ALSO looking for new books that I think the kids will learn from and enjoy...O ya, that, the reason we came in the first place...ai yi yi!  

I know what you're thinking... what library do the Treibers go to and what time, I will plan my library visits accordingly!  

However, I'm fairly certain we appear, to the everyday library-goer, to have things pretty much under control, but from my perspective, we are just a loud, active mess.  Mostly because of the inner turmoil going on trying to prevent anything super destructive from happening, the prevention is what is exhausting. 

We *almost* made it to the car in one piece, Owen bumped his lip on the stroller tray while I shimmied us down the curb, and he screamed, until we were about half way home, he screamed...sigh. 

Then, I began to reflect on our library adventure.  I remembered that moment in the car, that perfect moment, and I started thinking back to a few of the wonderful moments back in the library and I realized, I don't want to spend my time dwelling on those stressful moments that parenthood is scattered with (or, um, saturated with, that might be a better word at times), but rather, I want to keep vivid those memories that make parents much further along on their journey say things like, 

"Enjoy every moment!!" and "They grow up way too fast, don't they?!".  

These veteran parents are not remembering those middle of the night wake up calls for feedings, fears, or illnesses, 

or the inconvenience of stopping everything in search of a nearby restroom for a potty emergency, for the 3rd time, 

or the time you sit down to a warm meal you have worked hard to make only to be asked to get another cup of milk while one child throws their bowl of applesauce off their tray upon your return, which splatters onto the floor, walls, and your pants, and the cup of refilled milk accidentally tips and white liquid seeps into placemats, the newly refilled napkin holder (of course!), and scattered pieces of construction paper with half finished creations that didn't quite get hung up yet...the list of events parents seem to eventually forget is long, but that's the thing, that's the key, they forget, or at least keep them from invading the forefront of their memories.

But I knew I needed something tangible to keep my focus, 
so I started this list, 
a list of things I always hope to remember...    

Owen’s smile that slowly creeps upon his face in that genuine way that only a child can manage when the tub is filling up with water and the bubbles start to form at his feet

Watching Owen sitting on Daddy’s lap, intently listening as Daddy sings the words and Owen studies the illustrations of Night Night Baby or It's Pajama Time

How I know that when I ask Owen to bring me a book, 
8 times out of 10 I will be reading Farmer in the Dell 

and how he climbs in my lap, grabs my hand if need be, 

and places it on the book, just in case I had intentions of 

doing anything other than be his storyteller

The way Selah sweetly says, “Aww, it’s okay Buddy, it's okay.” whenever Owen seems upset or the way she studies him, then gives a little chuckle and says, "Owen, you're so cute! So cute!"

The way Selah quietly, and thoughtfully, creeps into bed with us in the morning  to snuggle with us until we are ready to get up or 

Owen’s morning stirrings start picking up on the monitor

Owen’s big bear hugs around the neck with his soft, plump cheeks pressed against mine

Selah's love for books and the way she will sit for long periods of time looking through pictures and making up stories, 

sometimes to the less than respectful audience of a little brother

The side step, crab-like dance moves Owen has mastered

The way Owen's soft, plump fingers gently brush past my hand as he turns the page in a book we are reading before bed, the gentle rhythm of the glider, and the soft glow of the lamp behind us

The way Owen leans in for a kiss on the cheek, or the way he softly strokes my hair while I hold him on my hip and stir the steaming soup on the stove

How the kids eagerly help put groceries away and the slight grins of pride that creep up after they finish 

The way Owen patiently places the wand for the bubbles into the container, pressing the soapy wand to his lips to blow but leaving tiny bubbles behind

The pure joy painted on Owen's face when he sees me for the first time on Saturday mornings after Daniel has let me sleep in

Selah’s way of randomly and frequently yelling out, “Mom!" then responding to my, "Yes?" with an “I love you!!” 

Owen's way of saying "Ey yuu ooo" (I love you)

How Owen reflexively lifts his left hand straight into the air and starts strumming an imaginary guitar with his right while stomping around, anytime music starts

Playing Hi Ho Cherry-O, Princess Go Fish, or Sequence with Selah; 
watching the delight she feels in winning, and the graciousness she shares in losing 

The way Selah giggles and wrinkles up her nose when 

Daddy says something goofy

The concentration on Owen’s face as he pulls the lid off a marker, his grin at this accomplishment, and then the pursed lips, chin up demeanor as he creates his masterpiece

The sounds of Selah as she lulls herself to sleep by sucking on her blanky and rubbing the soft fibers against her cheeks

Listening to Selah engaged in honest worship to our good, good God, singing loud His praises in the car, grocery store, park, stroller, everywhere

Any thing that proceeds after the phrase, "MOM! I have an IDEA! How about I be the... {dentist, mom, teacher, princess}?"

Selah's passionate, thoughtful prayers to Jesus, and the way she recites Bible verses with impressive accuracy

Owen's excitement at the sight of any animal, the way he ran up to the neighbor's dog, contorted his body to get on her level, stuck out his itty bitty tongue, wiggled it from side to side and panted to mimic the four-legged friend

Selah's generosity, and the way she gets excited 

when she offers you a piece of her candy or a toy

Owen holding a computer mouse to his ear and pretending it's a phone, saying "hELLooo" to the imaginary person on the other line

The shrieks of pure joy as both kids run in circles around our house while Daddy chases them down, scoops them up in his big, strong arms, 

and tosses them on the couch, 

into the tickle monster's (mama's) arms and the giggles that burst forth

Sitting on a rocking chair, watching the kids play in the backyard.

 Owen shoveling rocks, both into a bucket and his mouth, and Selah organizing the acorns she's collected. Or divvying up the flat (they have to be flat) rocks she's found 

And, of course,

Both kids quietly, peacefully looking through library books in the backseat on our way to return them, 

that one, I'm sure, will always stand out.

This list will always be growing as I seek out new delights in my everyday, and one of my hopes in doing this is to be able to appreciate the small, simple pleasures of parenthood now, not only as I look back nostalgically once my kids are grown.  There is always going to be craziness and frustrations and weariness and moments I'd rather forget, but it's those moments I hope to always remember that will keep me going, keep me focused on what matters, and fill my heart cup to the brim.