Moments
I think all parents must have moments where they say "This moment. I want to freeze frame it in my mind and never forget it." Well, everyone has moments like that. Today I had another one, and it got me to thinking, "I wonder what the last one was?" It took me a while to even remember. So I got my journal out and got to writing. I need to write some of these things down.
Today's moment was Mr. Sam, playing upstairs. He loves to play up there, he has his choice of three rooms and a hallway to play in. He can walk pretty well now and even climb down off one of the shorter beds. So he takes his cars, two at a time to wherever he wants to play. He plays awhile in that location, jabbering in his cute Ukranian language the whole time. Then when he's tired of that, he picks his cars up two at a time, and carries them to the next location to play. It was so cute and peaceful. He requires nothing of me during those times except some encouragement or a smile or an occasional help up onto or down off of our big bed. Sometimes this goes on for an hour or so.
But then I tried to write it down. And that ended the wonderful moment. He became whiny and wanted to play with my pen. He wanted to play with my journal. He didn't want me to sit that close to him but he didn't want me to go away. I felt frustrated and irritable, and that was when I realized that this is why we don't remember the golden moments so well. They're shadowed by the next moment. He dumped all his cars onto the floor and demanded down. I had to laugh.
Well, he was fine once he was on to another location, and I got my moment written down. Now, he's having another moment, laying on the couch watching A Big Big World and playing with his cars. He can get himself down off the couch successfully now, as long as he's not horsing around too much I don't have to be right there anymore.
So I got a blog post written. How cool is that?
Today's moment was Mr. Sam, playing upstairs. He loves to play up there, he has his choice of three rooms and a hallway to play in. He can walk pretty well now and even climb down off one of the shorter beds. So he takes his cars, two at a time to wherever he wants to play. He plays awhile in that location, jabbering in his cute Ukranian language the whole time. Then when he's tired of that, he picks his cars up two at a time, and carries them to the next location to play. It was so cute and peaceful. He requires nothing of me during those times except some encouragement or a smile or an occasional help up onto or down off of our big bed. Sometimes this goes on for an hour or so.
But then I tried to write it down. And that ended the wonderful moment. He became whiny and wanted to play with my pen. He wanted to play with my journal. He didn't want me to sit that close to him but he didn't want me to go away. I felt frustrated and irritable, and that was when I realized that this is why we don't remember the golden moments so well. They're shadowed by the next moment. He dumped all his cars onto the floor and demanded down. I had to laugh.
Well, he was fine once he was on to another location, and I got my moment written down. Now, he's having another moment, laying on the couch watching A Big Big World and playing with his cars. He can get himself down off the couch successfully now, as long as he's not horsing around too much I don't have to be right there anymore.
So I got a blog post written. How cool is that?
posted by Captainwow on
11/07/2007
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5 Whatcha Thinkin?
