Butterfly kisses and Eskimo smooches

Sometimes things move way too fast.

Sometimes WE move way too fast. 

I'm completely guilty of this, of moving too fast, of not savoring the moments. 

I'm always focused on the mistakes of my yesterday and the plans of my tomorrow, that I rarely find time to enjoy the now, the present, the small things. 

Like rocking my beautiful, healthy little girl to sleep.

I've noticed a trend when it comes to our society; there are very, very few stages in our lives in which we truly allow ourselves time to just be. Time to live in the moment, not worry about what you've done or what you're about to do. When we're really, really little (like, Pearyn little), we don't know any better than to live in the now. We don't have much of a concept when it comes to time, so who really knows if one week actually feels like one week or if it only feels like a day. 

And then we start to grow up a little bit at a time, and once we get a taste of that growing up, we spend the next 18 years of our adolescence trying to hurry up and get there. When we're five we want to be 10, when we're 10 we want to be 13 and when we're 13 we want to be 25.

Something happens when we're little and we stop wanting to be truly little. Which, is really, really sad in a way, because what is better than being young, naive and believing in all things magic? There are days I'd give anything to go back to that time. (Although, I guess that'd just be me living in the past again ...)

And then we get to college (or, if not college, our late teens and early 20s), otherwise known as the selfish, deprived years. This might be the last time in our lives that we truly, TRULY live in the now. Most of us party way too hard, drink far too much and sleep far, far, FAR too little. The most we bother to look ahead in our schedule is to the time after classes, when the sun goes down and we can start our abusive cycle of partying too hard and not sleeping enough, again. 

We're mostly selfish and defiant, the fact that our bodies don't rebel against us and completely shut down is beyond me. Some of us graduate, some of us find another path. But in the end, we all walk away wondering what exactly we did with those four years and what the hell we're supposed to do next.

And now, enter adulthood. We panic. After spending nearly half a decade procrastinating and denying that we were growing up, we're officially adults. We get big people jobs, marry the loves of our lives and make babies. We save up for houses, for cars, for "rainy days." We take family vacations, we have conversations with our parents just because and we lose our grandparents. 

We don't realize it, but we're about to spend the next 30 years of our lives planning for a future, for a future most of us don't realize we're living right then and there. What's the point in saving up money for family vacations if you don't stop and find the time to make the family to go on it with. Why start a college fund for your child if you miss every birthday working to earn it? Why do we work so hard to achieve all these things, when we rarely have the time or the sense to stop and enjoy it?

Let's slow our lives down a bit. Let's walk through the daisy fields a little longer. Let's watch the snow fall. Spend time with each other. Laugh with each other. Love on each other. Watch bad movies with each other. I want to get to know the family I've worked so hard to make and raise. Soak in every last minute of my baby being a baby. Be selfish with our time as a family of three (who knows if and when a larger family is in store). Be selfish with my time as a mother, as a daughter, wife, sister, aunt, cousin, niece, friend, best friend. Appreciate the chance to comfort Pearyn's bad dreams, because one day, she won't want me to. 

Instead of planning this amazing future and family for my husband, myself and Pearyn, I think I'll take a break, sit back and watch it get made. 

Enjoy each other.

And butterfly kisses.

And Eskimo smooches.

And my family. My beautiful, beautiful family.

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