{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you’re inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.

If you’ve ever lost a little one early on in pregnancy, I think you’ll find comfort in Kate’s insight.  Read it here.

I’ve often thought these same thoughts, but Kate’s done such a fine job of putting it into writing, that I won’t attempt to do it myself.

Yesterday I woke up to a bouncing little toddler perched upon my belly, excitedly shouting, “It raining!  It pouring!”  Well, it’s still raining and pouring today.  Here’s the view from our front door…

Technically, I don’t have to use any words here…I’m meant to capture the moment by photo, but I feel like I should explain this one.  Joseph loves Mary Poppins and Bert.  He loves to sing like them, to dance like them, to dress like them.  Every object in our house has become a costume possibility…pots are wonderful hats; mops make excellent umbrellas.  This towel is no different.  After my shower last night, he saw it on my head and exclaimed, “I must have that hat!  It will be perfect for Mary Poppins!” 

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment.  A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  If you’re inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see. 

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment.  A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.  If you’re inspired to do the same, visit Soulemama to leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see. 

Maybe I’m not so mindless after all.  I just found the one cup measuring cup in the kids’ kitchen drawer.  Well, at least I learned a lesson from that moment of professed mindlessness (but it sure feels better to know I’m not so mindless after all).

The other day Joseph was busy arranging his letters on the kitchen floor.  Usually he’ll make words with them or sometimes a sentence or two, but on this particular day, his letters seemed to be arranged in no particular order, yet he seemed very focused and intent on them being just so.  Finally, I couldn’t bear it any longer, so I asked him what he was doing.  He briefly paused to look at me, but said nothing.  Then it dawned on me…he was arranging the letters as if they were a keyboard…in order, exactly.  I looked around…no keyboard in sight.  He was doing it completely from memory.  Pretty impressive. 

Remember my conversation with Joseph?  Well, someone else seems to have been listening and is now doing a fine impression of his brother.

Dax:  William!  What are you doing?

William:  Doing.

Oh boy…here we go again!