These are the days.

Do you ever wish there were more hours in a day? No, just me?

These days I have turned into a tad bit of a sap. If ever I see a boy who is older than eight and who is at his mother’s side, I practically sob. It’s largely due to my wallowing in memories lately, which I do a few times each year when the mood really hits me. I suppose I blame the universe for these times. If I researched the tilt of the earth and alignment of the moon and the date of my birth, I’m just sure I would figure out why it is that I feel what I feel when I’m feeling it. But I don’t research much, I just roll with the punches, you know? Go with the flow. Take it as it comes.

The other day I took a drive down memory lane, right past Jace’s first daycare. His first daycare was an at-home daycare which was run by a sweet mom who lives a block away from my office. When Jace was born we searched and searched for the right person to watch him. Thanks to my flexible schedule, we only needed daycare two days a week, but my goodness it was still such a scary step to take, finding that right person. He was just a baby! And my first, nonetheless. We searched for a daycare, we interviewed nannies, and not until Jace turned 6 months old did we stumble upon teacher Michelle. She was perfect and it felt so right, him being there, right next to me while I worked.

Just yesterday we found teacher Michelle's, and now... Now I can’t keep up with how quickly the time is passing. Now teacher Michelle’s is just a mere memory of my firstborn baby. I remember him there with his long blonde baby hair falling past his shoulders. I remember him there when he stepped unsteadily in his black puma tennis shoes that he wore when he first learned to walk. I remember him there when we would wake up extra early and drive to the park to spend our mornings together on the swings before we walked hand in hand to teacher Michelle’s house to say “see you later alligator!”. I remember him there when tears streamed down my face after I dropped him off, when I had to drive around the block a couple of times and regain my composure before going into work.

Which was quite the same emotional scenario just the other day as I drove past this home, the place that now holds only memories of a baby that is no longer there. As I drove down the block I could all but see him walking down that sidewalk in his red checkered shorts and his chunky thighs, running ahead of me, giggling happily with his rosy red cheeks. I drove slowly and through cloudy tear-filled eyes I could see it happening like an old movie reel of a memory, pushing heavily on my heart with a painful weight. Now my baby, my firstborn son, he is a growing boy. He is tall and lanky with a sprinkle of freckles on his button nose. Sometimes I stare at his face and try my hardest to find that baby he used to be, but he’s gone. Just like that he is gone, and in his place is this wonderful, strong-willed, sensitive, funny, stubborn boy who has opinions and stories and the biggest imagination I’ve ever known.

And did I tell you Beck is 8 months old? Scratch that, 8 and a HALF months old. This first year is my very, VERY favorite and it's already coming to a close so quickly. I can't get enough of this butterball. Everyday I'm soaking up these days because soon he'll be as big as his brother and I CAN'T COPE. Each night before laying B in his crib, I sing him the same song I've sung to him since he was a newborn babe. Imagine me and you, and you and me. I think about it day and night, it's only right. To dream about the one you love, and hold him tight, so happy togetherrrrr. I can't see me lovin' nobody but you, for all my life. When you're with me baby the skies will be blue, for all my life. I press my cheek against his while I sing, softly bouncing him around the dimly lit nursery, and he calms right down. He leans his weight into my cheek, comforted by the vibrations of my vocal cords and the sound of my voice, the familiarity of a song he's heard me sing every night since came into the world.

Having two kids is a whole other world. It's such a chore to pack up and go places nowadays. And it's quite the ulcer inducer when they both decide to scream in the car. Sometimes two is overwhelming, but as in all aspects of parenthood there are these fine moments that shine through like sweet sugar coated sunbeams in a cotton candy sky. Often these beautiful moments are so small, so nameless and insignificant, that I worry I will forget about them. Like when they bathe together, splashing and giggling and playing with the toy boats. Their first bath together had me OVERFLOWING with happiness I tell you, which is such a silly thing to overflow about. Or how about the first time they both sat in the car-cart together? And how excited Jace was to have Beck helping him drive his firetruck through the isles? And how even more excited Beck was to be buckled next to his brother, holding the steering wheel and watching the world move around him? Another moment where the happy tears threatened and I thought, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER WOMAN, IT'S A CAR CART IN A GROCERY STORE, YOU ARE RIDICULOUS. It's those little moments that have me in puddles all over the floor and while it seems so ridiculous, in my heart I know that it's not. I know it's these very moments that are molding them, creating brotherly love and strengthening an intuitive bond that flows in their blood somehow. These moments are molding me, defining those otherwise perilous and often tumultuous times that leave me feeling like a sinking ship in this wearying world of motherhood.

This feeling of a heavy weight on my heart is just so common these days. I see an older boy walking with his mom, justin bieber hair and iphone in hand, and threatening tears spring to my eyes. Because I always see Jace and Beck in those boys. I always see myself in their mothers. I always see our future and while it's a beautiful thought, the future, I also can't always handle the thought of how quickly time comes and goes.

On top of feeling extra sappy as of late, I've also been feeling extra adventurous. The hubs and I took our kayaks out for their first run and oh what a feeling! Those beauts slice through water like a knife. Kayaking in February, have you ever heard of such a thing? This Spring weather is something else. The air was crisp and the world was quiet while we paddled through thickets and around bends, left at this fork, right at this one. The snow capped mountains were our view, with an occasional herd of geese flying overhead.

I have a thing for Nature. I love technology and I'm so grateful for it (electricity, amirite?!) but I also feel like in trying to keep up with technology we live in a world that has really lost sight of how much we need the earth as God gave it to us. Nature is a healing place, and everything in it is intended for our benefit. Every single thing we need to survive and thrive is out there. And I'm not saying that I'm going to live in the woods for the rest of my life, but by golly I would. I WOULD. I love the woods, the mountains, the rivers. There is no spiritual connection anywhere that I feel so strongly as I do when I am in the thick of natures element.

I'm so looking forward to the adventures we will have with our trusty kayaks. The rivers we will conquer! The sunsets we will see!

And now I will take my sappy, adventurous self to relax and watch some gilmore girls. (another reason to be grateful for technology: NETFLIX.) I'm almost done with my least favorite season (six! ughhhh.) and also, the hubs gave me a jar of nutella for valentines day, so. You know. Hand in hand and all that. To close us out, may I present: life lately in the world of the crofts!