Five Minutes Ago

By my clock it's 12:36 in the morning which means that I should have been to bed hours ago. Instead I've been emailing and blog hopping, all the while knowing I should be in bed. But, if I would have been in bed, I'd have missed what happened five minutes ago.

The first sounds were the shuffles of little feet coming up the stairs and into the bathroom. Then I heard a chair being dragged across the kitchen floor, rustling on the pantry shelves, and then eery silence. Let's see... it's after midnight and someone's into food so it has to be Kade or Creep. A minute later I turned around to see this little face peering over my shoulder.

I swear to you that it took everything in me not to laugh out loud at the giant chocolate shmear across his forehead. Wow, I thought. I have to have a picture of this. I grabbed my trusty camera, all the while praying that it had miraculously healed itself from the fall yesterday that had left it unable to turn on or extend the lens. Please, please, please, please work, I prayed. And eureka, the camera worked. I knew that whatever he was about to say about the mysterious shmear would be something I wish that I would have taped. This time I was ready.

I love, love, love this kid and what an adorable weasel he is! If I had been in bed ten minutes ago, I would have missed the chance to document that what Bill Cosby has know for years: children lie. :)

Kade's now bundled up on the couch eating (more) chocolate chips and watching a Thomas video while I'm back at the computer thinking about the funny stuff my kids do and say everyday. The stuff that makes me love being home with them. The stuff I bombard Peterson with as he walks in the door each night. The stuff that we share laughs about long after the kids are in bed. I write this stuff down from time to time, but I've decided that I want to do more--preserve more--of this fleeting time with them. I managed to jot down some actual lines from Cam and Sa'My on our way home from parent teacher conferences this afternoon.

Savannah: Mom, when I'm so sixteen, I'm going to have a car.
Me: What kind of car?
Savannah: A princess car that I'll make and drive and it'll have rocket boosters!
Me: Rocket boosters?
Savannah: YES! And I'll go so speedy as a grown-up, grown-up giant!

A few minutes later talking to Cam about his progress ...

Me: Cam you're doing so good in school this year, bud. You rock.
Cam: I know, mom. Everything that I've learned in my mind this year is still in my mind.

Awesome.

I've laughed to myself the last several hours thinking about these conversations and know that there's no way I'd remember it just the way they said it if I hadn't written it down. I'm seeing more and more why it was so important for Nephi to go and get the plates. We just forget stuff--even the stuff we swear to ourselves that we'll never forget because it's too important, or funny, or amazing.

"And behold, it is wisdom in God that we should obtain these ^arecords, that we may preserve unto our children the language of our fathers;...[and we] searched [the records] and found that they were desirable; yea, even of great ^aworth unto us ...." (1 Ne 3:19, 5:21).

This stuff matters.

Whether its the giggly conversations about princess cars, or talking about why the 2000 Stripling Warriors weren't scared of battle, this stuff--this time with my family--matters and is of great worth. I think that's the real reason I'm up this late, posting yet another dirty picture of one of the kids. I want them to have a record of my wonder in watching each of their spirits grow as they explore mortality. I want them to have a record of the joy I find in being their mom, even on the days when I don't have it together and yell and complain. I want them to have a record that despite the late nights, constant messes, and sheer exhaustion that come with this job, I'm eternally grateful for the privilege.

Just like I was five minutes ago.