{some}times

Sometimes babies hate sleep. 

And when your name is Charlotte Rose, "sometimes" more often means "all of the times." 

And that can sometimes lead to late night typing just to stay awake while a certain babe thrashes in your arms. 

And if your name is Kristin Rose, that "sometimes" means right now. 

Nic ventured off with one of our Uncles to see the new Fury movie tonight.  I'm fairly certain Charlotte just wanted to make sure I didn't miss out on any opportunities to snuggle up and not get any housework done. You know, cause I don't do that enough during the day.. Although the daytime "snuggling" part is more so playing referee and consoling various worries. But that's alright. 

Tonight, I don't mind at all. I'll kiss her little sweaty head and giggle at her occasional snores while I still can. Soon she won't need me to cuddle her to sleep, or pat her belly, or stroke her head. She won't need Nic to get up a million times* each night to replace her paci or fix her blanket. She won't need us to help get her through the night..

And while that sounds like a dream come true right now, we may actually come to miss it one day. Maybe not the broken sleep.. But being needed, wanted even... Yeah, we'll miss that. 

Wanna know what else we'll miss? Hudson running around in his cape. He's recently started insisting on wearing his super-cape for various outtings as well as just around the house. He runs as fast as his little legs will allow him and shouts with delight, "I'm flying, Mom!! Look! I'm FLYING!!!" And then he'll fake crash into the bushes with gusto. My word.. That little man. He makes me smile! (Sometimes.) (Okay. A lot of times) Our most recent public display of SuperHud was for our grocery shop a couple days ago..   He was so proud of it and he soaked up ALL the compliments like any SuperHero would, with a bashful grin from ear to eat and a high pitched, "thank you!!" I'm pretty proud to be raising a polite SuperHero.

In some of my weaker moments, or the heated moments (ahem, cue mommy rage for a toddler pooping on the front porch**) I forget. I forget that these days are fleeting and these babies are growing. In fact, they're not even babies anymore! I forget that one day my house will be empty and I'll be left hoping and praying that I did enough.. That I didn't somehow ruin them. That their lives would be a reflection of a wonderful, well rounded upbringing with loving parents who pointed them to Jesus at every opportunity. In any case, I'm thankful. I'm thankful to have the sweet moments, the ones where I can sit, breathe in their sweet scents and remember.. Even if just for a moment. These sweet little babes. They're hard work. They're exhausting. They steal my chocolate. But man, they're worth it. 

*obvious exaggeration but at 3am and he's out of bed for the 4th time for whatever reason, it feeeels like a million. 

**not an exaggeration.

Hey Ya

Ever have random old memories come rushing over you out of nowhere?

I'm all for moving forward and continuing to learn and grow and not dwell on the past but I gotta say, sometimes these sorts of memories overwhelm my heart and mind and I get all warm and fuzzy, nostalgic, or sometimes even a bit embarrassed. 

For instance, I was sitting with my kids the other day playing with them when a pretty popular over-played song came on, Hey Ya, actually. It reminded me of my freshman year of high school. And more specifically it reminded me of a guy that had made a big montage of photos from a class trip with the song in the background.. And then THAT reminded me of when my spanish teacher was upset with me. To the point where she kept me after school to have lengthy discussion. (I had her class for the last period of the day.. which meant she could keep me in there as looong as she wanted.. Yikes.) Why was this all connected? Not because I was being unruly or not turning in homework or distracting the class with my awesome rendition of the Hey Ya chorus, but because I was a jerk and I had to cancel on going to prom that guy who was also a student of hers. She was concerned for him and expressed her distaste for girls "like me" who "hurt nice guys.." It was all a big misunderstanding and it was awkward to say the very least.

This guy had been a good friend of mine. A senior who was in Continentals with me, no romantic connection on any level, just a friendly Christian guy and he'd asked me to be his date! The majority of my friends were seniors and he offered to let me come with so I could be there with them. Sure, now looking back, I can understand that he likely had a bit of a crush on me but I was none the wiser and I would have loved to go. Truly. But, the BIG but.. I wasn't allowed to date, on any level. And I didn't know how to express that to him.. So I tentatively gave him my reply- a big fat maybe. I was pretty certain my parents would say no, but for the sake of being a good friend, I thought I could at least ask.

Before I knew it, it was the week of the dance and I hadn't even yet gathered the courage to ask my parents. I knew what their answer would be but I felt like I couldn't tell him a direct "no" until I had heard it for sure from them.  So Monday morning rolls around and I stroll in planning to let my friend know that I just couldn't come, annnnd there he was, gifts in hand. There was a THEME for every single day that week of gifts to bring your date, and he had them ALL. I hadn't even said yes officially and here I was arms full of snacks and random "Under the Sea Royalty" trinkets... I was so overwhelmed. And incredibly embarrassed. It was like one of those moments in a movie where the stunned silence somehow gives way to this bubbling excitement from the other person and the silent one is almost ignored in the wake of the excitement... How on earth could I break it to him now?!

I went home that night with my assortment of treats, practically begging my mom to ask, "What the?," which she did, thankfully. And I spilled it all, finally, telling how much I wanted to go so I could be there with my friends, and how excited this guy was and how much he'd already spent on getting me presents... To which my mom, very gently, explained that there was no way I was going to be going to prom, muchless with a date. The way she put it, (then infuriating but now totally understandable), an 18 year old guy does not need to be taking a 14 year old to prom. Plain and simple, no matter how "friendly" the terms. It just didn't need to happen. He could find a date his age and I could hang out with my other friends that night.

I draaaagged my feet into school the next morning, hoping to muster up some sort of sugar coated excuse to tell him for why I couldn't come.. I even offered to give him the gifts back so he could hand them off to his new date but he took it like a pro! He genuinely seemed like he understood! I was shocked. He was totally cool with it. 

Or so I thought. He must have spoken with my spanish teacher that same day, before I had her class, whether he was harsh about what happened remains a mystery but either way- she was fired up and ready to lay into me. I pretty typically tried to lay-low in all of my classes, unless the teacher was a bit more of a friendly personality who liked to joke around with their students, to which I'd always grab onto and try to keep going all year. Regardless of any kind of "friendship" with a teacher I always had an underlying fear of them and their power and always desperately tried to stay on their good side.. Teachers pet? Maybe not in that extreme but definitely a little bit of a goody-two-shoes.  I never ever wanted to give reason for a teacher to not like me.. Annnnd here she was, using her grown up stern voice and telling me how big of a jerk I was... 

Oooh it stung. And I'm sure I fought back tears when I tried to explain what had happened but I pretty much lost every chance to be on her good side from that point on. And my friend never really mentioned the situation again. Hindsight, of course, I could have handled it all very very differently but I guess that's part of growing up. Gaining perspective and learning from mistakes. And being able to laugh at yourself for being, well.. Childish. 

Shake it like a Polaroid picture, right? 

Little baby Kristin and the rest of the freshmen in my first year of Continentals.. So presh. 

-rightnow-

How many times do we sit back and reminisce about the "good ol' days?" Whether it was childhood or high school or college or earlier years of marriage? 

And how often do we get caught up dreaming about the future and the hopes of what will be? Successful career, dream house, or perfect family? 

We often spend so much of our time living in our pasts or dreaming of the future that we kind of miss out on the right now.. I know I'm guilty. Wishing old memories to be present moments, thinking back on what "could have been," rewording conversations so I came across more wittily... Thinking of what it will be like when Hudson is in school, or when my kids are teenagers, wondering about how long I'm going to be living here and when we'll move again.... Maybe it's just part of the human condition but I find that we can easily spend too much time thinking about anything but the now.

I've recently been struck with the reality- we have NO idea when we're going to think back to this very moment and remember how sweet it was.. And wish we could have it back. Or that we could change something about it. 

And I know this isn't some new revelation that no one has thought of before, like I'm some deep philosopher who has stumbled upon some new idea about life, but it is certainly a new reality to me. Something I've always "known" but am really feeling a stronger grasp on.

I want to love the moments I'm in while I'm in them. Not be wondering about what its gonna be like in the future or wishing things were like they used to be. 

Granted, I do think there is some good to be said for both remembering the past and thinking of the future! I'm definitely not saying we shouldn't do it. That's part of the beauty of this life, being blessed to have memories worth reliving, and futures worth looking forward to- but my point, or at least what I've been realizing, is that spending too much time dwelling in those mindsets can bring an uncanny amount of sadness. Or depression. Or even downright bitterness. 

And my right now deserves some joy. 

Driving around on one of our little adventures with my little family yesterday I tried my best to focus my attention on the right now. I wanted to intentionally pay attention to the precious little moments that may (or may not) eventually be one of my "think back" memories.. I want to find the freedom in right now. Not yesterday or tomorrow..

I want to revel in the joy of right now.