i’ll take “relishing these moments” for $200, alex

again, today:

…and i have two things to say about this:

a) i so have learned my lesson to stop leaving the pantry doors open.

b) (and i’m gunna get really long-winded here and tangent into some motherly emotional banter…just a friendly warning).

sigh. okay. here goes.

life is a choose-your-own-adventure book, and i don’t know if it was having a baby or just getting nearer to the third decade of my life, but i have so embraced this philosophy of finding and loving the good in everything, everywhere, everyone.

and this stage? this i’ve-actually-named-the-vacuum-(frank, in case you were wondering)-because-we’ve-been-seeing-a lot-of-each-other-these-days stage? this she-knows-what-she-wants-and-she’ll-use-all-her-will power-to-tell-me stage? it’s magic. and my dad’s comment yesterday hit me hard:

Someday when you are old, you will look at a spotless floor and wish for the spill of the child who has gone away.

and i pictured it. our family, around the dinner table someday far off… and they’re all grown up. and we are laughing and remembering the baby days. and we’ll tell stories of how our little cubby got into everything and how many times i had to sweep up piles of cheerieos or vacuum a blanket of oats. and although it will be all too sweet and wonderful to see our kids matured and full of personality, i know it will sting…just wanting to go back for a little while to this face.

this little face of the baby that once was. i take nothing for granted. not one little moment.

last night, after i read her a book and sang her “our” song, we rocked in the dark as she thumbed the ear on her puppy and breathed a little heavier against my chest. and then i said our good-night prayer as we do every night and prayed in the same order as we always do.

thank you for our home, our health, our toys, our food, our jobs, our happiness. thank you for cubby and all the joy she brings us.

watch over her as she sleeps…protect her from all harm. let your guardian angels–and grandpa & grandma cryderman–comfort her as she sleeps. bring her sweet dreams and memories and help her always to feel love and comfort in her crib.

help all the little parts of her body to grow healthy and strong and work perfectly, just as you have created them to. help her little brain to learn more about your world each day and help us and all those around her to find ways to teach her love and peace, kindness and patience, gratitude and contentment and for her to grow up using her talents to help others.

and bless our family…be with

…and at this point, i usually go through the list, beginning with daddy, mommy, lainey and bruh-bruhs and on to the grandpas, the grandmas, the aunts, the uncles, etc…

and, while i thought she may already be asleep and could only see the silouette of her little body in the dark, i watched as she pulled her binky out of her mouth in the middle of the prayer and quietly chimed in:

bruh-bruh. bruh-bruh.”

tears instantly welled as i ran out to tell brett…she prayed. she knows what comes next. she wanted to pray for her brothers and she knows that’s what we pray for every night. and what this all means–the comfort of a nightly routine repeated, just the same, every night, the understanding of caring for others, the importance of austyn and brandyn to her…it’s all just so much. and that’s how every day has been these last weeks…so, so much. and yes, there are fits (a.k.a.: self-discovery outbreaks) and spills and messes. yes, i’m far more wiped out at night than i have been in a long time. but it’s nights like last night and all the discoveries in between that remind me how much i will miss this all when we do finally gather at that dinner table with our beloved kids…all grown up.

(f.y.i.: the above prooves baby feet make killer book-ends)

…and you certainly didn’t think i’d close up this post without paying homage to fall once more?

we’re just a couple wheat bundles short of a farm.

…enjoying the taking-nothing-for-granted things. ~k


Leave a Comment
  1. speechless…simply a beautiful posting. the prayer story…divine.


  2. That prayer was incredible! Major tears! Can I come over with my blankie and listen in too?

    Your dad’s comment yesterday also hit home with me tonight. Lily got a stuffy nose in the middle of the night and didn’t sleep well; with David out of town, it was just me and Lil.

    It was the worst night’s sleep either of has had since she’s been born, but I just kept thinking about how fleeting this all is, how much she needed me and I could make her feel better. It was actually beautifully bonding. The song “You’re Going to Miss This” is oh so true.


  3. Generally I make it my goal to not cry before 9:00 a.m. each day. You ruined everthing with this morning with this post. You put the “us” in precious. I love you.

  4. me think me spies a eloise wilkin book…

    love the pics.
    love lainey.
    love you.

  5. Oh my goodness Kelle — the black/white pic 5th from the end…that is YOU! I have seen your mouth like that – eyes, everything.

    Love seeing you in her!

  6. I love “self-discovery outbreaks.” That is perfect.

    Seriously, her eyes are astonishing.

    I can’t wait for bug to talk (in a language I can understand)…every time she says anything that resembles anything I try to get her to repeat it but not yet.

  7. Once again, you’ve taken me back and helped me to enjoy my babies, even though my youngest is turning 8 NEXT WEEK! It is so true. The little moments between all of the spills and work and tantrums are the ones that get burned in your memory. Thanks again, Kelle. This was so great and I just had one good cry and decided to enjoy the busy-stay-at-home-mom-kids-in-school-homework-schedules-driving-me-crazy-moments…..

  8. oh Kelle! you said it so true!!!! I remember walking out on our lanai when Jackson and Abby were 3 & 2 and giggling soooo hard and finding them and the entire porch covered in “comet” how they got it I do not know, all I know is I cold only see their eyeballs and teeth! I just started snapping my camera… not freaking out as I probably should have! Ohhh where are those pictures now?? I miss those babies!!! Thanks for refreshing my memory!

  9. i’m so glad i read this at the END of my day. you made me cry.
    thank you for reminding me to be thankful for everything this weekend.

  10. Kelle, I’ve bookmarked this post to look back on every now and then to remind myself that “Someday when you are old, you will look at a spotless floor and wish for the spill of the child who has gone away”. Because that TRULY breaks my heart and makes me want to scoop up my son to stop time and let him just be little forever, never leaving my arms and letting my kiss his sweet face whenever I want. Thank you for such a beautiful post.

  11. love this so much.
    poignant reminder.
    i have to tell myself this every day : )
    enjoy every moment because they are fleeting.

  12. Kelle, I have been loving your blog for over a year and just started reading it from the beginning. I’m loving getting to know more about you and seeing how your writing has evolved over the years. Your voice has become much stronger and your writing even lovelier. Your dad’s comment about the floor in this post hit me hard. Really hard. Please tell him how much I enjoyed his role in your memoir and on the blog. He seems like an amazing father and I’m so grateful you have him and share his wisdom and love with us. I love ya, Kelle. You are such a positive influence on my life.

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