The Things I Want to Remember...

There are moments that I pray I always remember. Sure, the big stuff is great - but all too quickly forgotten sometimes.  Tim and I keep trying to rack our brains trying to remember when Cameron did certain things. (I'm not that Mom that kept a minute-by-minute log.)  When did Cameron start eating cereal? I dunno.  When did Cameron get his first tooth?  I dunno. When are they supposed to start sleeping on their tummy?  I dunno. 
When the stars align.  

What I do remember and what I hope to always remember are the flashes of love, laughter and togetherness. The time:  the seconds, minutes, years and lifetimes.  

I want to remember that when Payton was a baby his big brother loved to make him laugh.  I want to remember that one time when Cameron insisted on Payton laying in his bed with him and then laughing so hard when Payton "tooted".  I want to remember how both of their eyes sparkle when Cameron and I tickle Payton or how Cameron will hold Payton's hand and dance "with" him.  I want to remember how every morning Cameron picks a toy for Payton to play with when he gets to school.  I want to remember that at a "family-style dinner party" full of people that I didn't know I stopped to let Cameron play airplane on my legs in the middle of the floor. 

I hope that I remember Cameron reading books to Payton and giggles by the pool EVERY TIME Cameron jumps into the water.

I want to remember the lazy river that we create in our backyard on Sunday afternoons.

I want to remember that even though Cameron cries through his haircuts, he's learning and still remembers to say thank you to the stylist when they're done (even when he's still catching his breath).  I want to remember trying to teach Cameron what a lollipop is and how to lick it.  I want to remember the look on his face when I taught him the lollipop song.

I want to remember the sound of little feet that run circles around my kitchen and not the fact that there are cups stacked in my sink that have remnants of milk crusted in the bottom.  

I want to remember hanging a bird feeder in our backyard and then sitting there for an hour telling the birds to come and get their breakfast and not the fact that I can't remember the last time I picked up dog poop.

I want to remember the noises that Payton makes when he's looking at himself in the mirror or how he stretches his arms out and kicks his legs in the water when he's in the bath and not that my clothes are covered in stains and that I smell like spit up.

I want to remember the goodness, the laughter and warmth I feel in this family that I call home.