Today, I created a Pandora radio station based off of the song "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" by Barenaked Ladies (featuring Sarah McLachlan). Then, I grabbed up my two, little munchkins, squeezed them in my lap, and practically sobbed at how awesome that moment was. They won't always fit in my lap like that. They won't always want to sit in my lap like that. I'll never have that moment back, and I sat there in that moment and absolutely scarfed it—every stinkin' second. (And yes: I am still tweaking said station.)
As I look out the window to my neighbors' house across the street (they're home this week decorating their house for Christmas and blasting Christmas music all the while), I can't help but wonder if they pine after the memories like the one I just created. (They have two kids, a girl and a boy, and the daughter is a college sophomore and the son is a high school freshman.) I'd like to think that they're still making some awesome memories with those kids, but I'm not even nearly ready to start thinking about how my relationship will change with my kids by that time of their lives (and my life). If I stop to think about it, it'll be here, and then I'll have missed all their snuggly sweetness.
Christmas is going to be so freaking sweet with these little rascals and my hubs this year. I have so much for which I am thankful.
If I could be with my little family all of the time, I'd be in heaven. Alas, we have to be able to make a living to feed these little rats, we have other obligations in life from time to time, and dramaliciousness from outside our little world will rear its ugly head around us (ugh). So, heaven has to wait most of the time (if only I will be so lucky to go to there when I cash out, too). When a little bit of heaven shows itself around here, I absolutely have to scarft it. Every. Single. Moment. And I'm so glad and grateful I can.