Tucked away.

I was looking through some of the many un-published and un-finished posts sitting in my draft box last night, and just so happened to come across this one, written in November 2009 (not quite sure why I didn't just post it then...). At first, I wasn't going to publish it until the season seemed more appropriate... but upon further thought, I realized that thoughts of cool winter days, holiday joy, and glimpses of peacefulness might be just the thing someone might find lovely to read on a hot August day. Enjoy. :)
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As I write, it is November 30th. However, in a matter of just two hours, it will be December. December. As much as I love and look forward to this time of year, I can hardly believe it is actually here. And if I could, I would grab time firmly and tell it, with no uncertain tone, to slow down, already! Considering how quickly November whizzed right on by, I can only assume that December will fly by at an altogether impossible speed.

Sometimes, between school, piano students, housework, projects, three children, going to the gym, church activities, errands, Christmas decorating and shopping, and all the other little ins and outs of daily life it is hard to catch my breath. I will admit that I get stressed and overwhelmed. I get snappy and grumpy. Boo.

But what I dislike the most about all this busy-ness paired with time's fleeting tendencies is that I start to feel like things are escaping me. Little, but oh-so-important things. Things that I want to remember. But alas, I have neither the time nor the ability to capture those moments in beautiful photographs (this would explain my sad lack of blogging).

And so, I find myself storing up these gems of a moment, tucking them away in my mind's eye, a mental snapshot of a time or a place or a face.

We all cuddle on the couch under one big fuzzy blanket and watch Elf. Annabelle especially seems delighted with Buddy's antics and she giggles and giggles and giggles. Her face is alight, her nose crinkled up with her grin that reaches into her eyes and beyond. Golden hair in wispy curls brushes my face as I laugh with her, this delighted daughter of mine.

Emma presses the button on the bottom of the little white piano ornament and tinkly music plays. Arms stretched out, she dances, her very own brand of ballet. She twirls and twirls until the music stops, and then she presses it again. And again. And again. Dancing and dancing, not caring that it's always the same song or that the living room is scattered with toys.

My husband grabs me and hugs me for a moment as I flit from room to room, moving from task to task. We linger, my head on his chest, and I breathe in the smell of his cologne and relish the feel of his arms around me.

It is early morning, and I am driving home from the gym. Ahead of me I see the mountains, hazy and shadowy in the cold light of dawn. Mists lay across the fields, wispy and white. Everything is in shades of gray and purple, soft and still before the sunshine wakes the scene. It is so peaceful, so quiet-like, so rare and beautiful. "Be still, and know that I am God" comes to my mind.

Rosalie pulls herself up on one of the bins of Christmas decorations and grabs at a branch of golden berries. As she catches my eye, she grins like she just accomplished a wonderful feat, like she knows she shouldn't mess, but oh wow does she feel like a big girl! I can't resist that smile or her happy bounce, so I scoop her up and she giggles.

I am awoken by two tousle-haired girls on a cold morning. Which, of course, calls for cuddles in bed, even if briefly since there is a baby needing to be changed in the next room. We squeeze together close, their little figures warm and soothing, our legs and arms all tangled and criss-crossed under the thick comforter.

As Rosalie drinks her morning bottle I wrap us in a blanket and sit on the couch, just to hold her close to me. Her head rests against my chest, and I drink her baby-ness in. Her long dark lashes, her perfectly round and ever-fuzzier head, her dimpled chubby hands as they eagerly grasp her bottle. I think I could keep her warm little self there on my lap, cuddled up with me, forever.

Tucked away, all of them, these beautiful scenes from this beautiful life. Tucked away, safe and cherished for always.

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I'm so glad I found this in my draft box. It was like a cool little spritz of joy and refreshment in this hot and busy week. Such precious memories, all of these...