Time in a Bottle

Price is four months old now. On one hand, it's like, "Wow, he's only four months old!" But on the other, much larger hand, it's like, "Wow, he's already four months old!" Time goes by too fast and I already want another little baby. And considering just two short months ago I didn't want to ever get pregnant again, that says a lot to my current state of mind and the wonderful disposition of my babies.

Last Wednesday I went grocery shopping after supper. When I got home (well past Olivia's bedtime) she came downstairs as I started putting the groceries away.

"Watcha doin', Mama?" she asked.

"I'm putting groceries away, what are you doing? You should be in bed."

I turned around to shoo her out of the kitchen but stopped short when I saw that she was wearing her pink Dora baseball hat with the glitter on the bill. Who dresses her for bed, anyway? Oh, wait, she does. Her thin blonde hair was curled up over the edge of the cap and I could barely see her face it was pulled down so far. She is, in a word, adorable. So, I stopped what I was doing, gathered her up and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. She immediately responded with a super-sized smile and hug to match and said, "Mama's home now!" As if me being home made everything right in her little world.

I tucked her into bed and she patted the pillow next to her (she sleeps in a double bed). "Lay down, Mama," she commanded. This pillow is usually reserved for Daddy, so I obeyed and snuggled close. She smiled at me and snuggled in closer. She closed her eyes and sighed, "Mama's here. Mama's home now."

I watched her little face slowly relax, the smile never leaving. My mind flashed forward and I saw her first day of school, her first date, Prom, her wedding. Would we snuggle like this before her wedding? Something tells me no. I'm not ashamed to say that tears slid down my cheeks as we lay there in the glow of her princess crown nightlight. I decided that if I could save time in a bottle, this was one thing I would be sure to include. I would pull that moment out again and again and let those feelings of love, security and peace wash over me like a river.

I would keep other things in the bottle, too. Like when Price buries his head into my shoulder when I rock him to sleep. Or when he laughs as I pull his feet through his pajamas, pants and socks because it tickles him. And I could never forget the smile he gives me whenever he hears my voice or sees me walk in the room. He doesn't even give that smile to Daddy.

And then there are all the funny things Olivia tells me: Mama, I need to get married. Look, Mama, I boo-fill. Mama, I need to go dance; I'll be back in a minute. Mama, I need a bootie band-aid. And the funny things she does: calling random people on my cell phone and having REAL conversations with them; reading books to Price; twirling everytime she gets dressed; touching the end of the banister whenever she goes upstairs.

I think I would even keep the bad things, too, just to remind myself that they pass just as quickly as the good things. What's even more interesting is that the bad times make the good times so much sweeter. Like the nearly five years of agony I speant trying to get pregnant. It made the birth of Olivia and Price the biggest miracles I've ever experienced (not counting, of course, their Daddy).

Time goes by too fast and I'd like to keep all of it, but I can't. Time doesn't preserve well. Memories, however, have no expiration date. So I think I'll just tuck these precious moments so deep in my heart they never find their way out. And, in truth, it won't really matter whether I remember them clearly in the end anyway. They will have already become part of who I am.