Refresh the water cups, pull back the covers, turn on the night-light.  In the midst of my nightly bedtime routine, I stop dead in my tracks and look around.  I take in the trinkets, the treasures, the brightly colored toys and the marks on the walls as if I am seeing it all for the first time.

Lately, I’ve been listening.  Everyone tells me to enjoy this phase while it lasts because in the blink-of-an-eye, it will be gone and I will wonder where all of the time went.  It’s just so easy to get distracted in the day-to-day rush and to miss the gradual evolution of our children.  Board books become picture books then chapter books.  Doll babies become barbies and diapers become underwear.

I kneel down on the ground and look around the room from their perspective.  I can see inside the tiny oven but am in awe of how large the bed appears.  In a decade, surely they’ll feel it is too small for them.

I want to freeze this moment.  I close my eyes and thank God for these children.  For the opportunity to be their mother, for this life I have been granted.  I am overwhelmed with a deep sense of gratitude for the tiny teacups, the stuffed animals, and for those God-forsaken barbie shoes I always seem to step on in my bare feet.

I will remind myself to do this more often.  To appreciate the perfect imperfections of our daily lives for the days may seem long now, but soon I will wish for them back.  And I don’t want to regret not taking a moment to pause and marvel at these miracles we’ve created.