It's In The Moments....

Lately I have noticed that I cling to the moments.  Good, bad, funny, doesn't matter. It's easier that way, to compartmentalize the weeks, the days, the hours.  I find that by powering through the structure of my to-do lists I can avoid a breakdown into the unavoidable, unpredictable ugly crying. Or, hysterical laughter over nothing, both of which indicate extreme stress and not enough sleep.

Wait, where was I?

Moments.

Like that moment at the hair dresser when Oldest turned to me and asked how he usually gets his hair cut. I told him, and moments later I heard him recite the same thing to the stylist with confidence.  What really made that a moment though wasn't the foresight he had and his desire to take responsibility, it was that his brother sat quietly reading next to him, seemingly unaware of what was going on, also went in the stylist's chair and said the exact same thing, and when he was done he looked at the girl and said, "She could probably explain it better."  But in fact, I couldn't.  I also couldn't articulate how awesome it was to know he was actually listening even when I thought he wasn't.

That moment in Walmart when Youngest picked up the hatchet and we made a deal that if he made honor roll this term he could have it for scouts.  Or more accurately, the moment his teacher emailed me to say "That plan was genius!  He's done everything I've been trying to get him to do over the last 2 weeks in one hour."  He's currently 3.8% away from his B- in Science, up all the way from a D.

The moment when Oldest and I were having a deep conversation in the car on the way home at the end of which he turned to me and said "I get it Mom.  I'm picking up what you're putting down."

The moments Tony and I have spent traveling to see his mother, and then sneaking out for dinner on the way home.  Just the two of us, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time.

The moment when Youngest smiled yesterday and I instantly saw his step brother all those years ago sporting his braces for the first time, and that I was able to take the day off to spend with him as his teeth ached, exploring the multitude of options he had in soft food. (Read: ice cream)

The moment my mother in law ate the steak and mushrooms I snuck into the nursing home for her like it was the tastiest meal she'd ever eaten.

The moment they all said "thanks" for cooking dinner.

And perhaps the most bitter sweet moment thus far, when my fun-sized, concentrated awesome, shorter stature son made himself available for just one hug and I found he has finally grown enough that he no longer face plants into my boobs. He's eating folks, he's growing, and no more awkward hugs.  Win, win.