Faded

I was changing Rem out of his PJ’s this morning as I normally do after breakfast and play time. I usually do a quick diaper change, put on some clothes and then it’s time for his morning nap. A familiar routine that usually passes without much thought. Yet as my fingers touched his skin, a feeling came over me like a lovely scent that I couldn’t quite place. I looked at the baby squirming about on the changing table. Memories of similar scenes tickled my mind. There were two other babies who left strong impressions, whose soft skin my fingers frequently touched. Things I thought I would never forget were now vague and fleeting as I tried to pinpoint the exact time and place of those common moments. My girls were once this size, once this squirmy, once this soft and sweet, but they grew without asking. Crawling on to the next stage in life.

In an attempt to capture the moment, I sat with my diapered baby in his room. I tickled and blew zerbits on his tummy. His laugh was throaty and his blue eyes seemed to reach into my soul. He crawled over me like a perfect play structure. For an active, almost 9 month old, what could be better than someone to climb on and snuggle with at the same time? He nuzzled his face into my neck as his feet found a perfect perch on my rock hard squishy stomach. Absorbing and loving on this baby was better than any of the luxuries this world has to offer. I’m sure of it.

The girls were entertained in their room with Polly Pockets, an amazing grandma-garage-sale find. But even Polly doesn't keep them for long. They found Rem and me after awhile and I got the camera. I didn’t attempt to wipe anyone’s faces or say, “Sit right here while I take your picture.” I just caught the children doing what they normally do; wrestle and play, squirm and squeel. Being my children, they still found the camera for a cheesy smile every now and then.

Like a warm bath that I would eventually have to get out of, the blessings comforted me to my toes. Time is fleeting and I know that a perfect memory of one particular morning won’t exist. It will fade and be replaced with other things in our ever changing daily life.  But for just right then, it was perfect.