Ladybug Tea Among Other Things

My ladies and I were invited to a Ladybug tea last week. Mr. happened to be in a golf tournament that day and we were able to enjoy the full English tea (2s & 3s style) together at our leisure. We munched on scones and tiny sandwiches (my favorite was the chicken salad, Little Miss adored the PB&J, Boo gathered everything on our shared plate into a pile of mush, and Fo preferred the cucumber sandwiches--much to my chagrin as they were delicious and I did not want to share). They daintily sipped their sunshine punch from glass teacups, held napkins in their laps, listened as politely as they could to a sweet devotional and excitedly received their very first teacups. Real ones.
It was the biggest deal. The best kind of day.
I've struggled at times with feelings of frustration with our mundane routine. An 18-month-old throwing a screaming, roaring fit every time you try to change her diaper has a way of messing with your endorphins.
Go figure.
But lately, I've been trying to soak in the moments. Those precious sweet moments that as a mom you know you'll never get back. It seems every season of life has these moments, doesn't it? If I close my eyes the seasons crash over me like the waves of the ocean:
As a child they were those hot summer days of riding my bike around the neighborhood until dusk. Something about standing up on the pedals and cruising with my hands hanging at my sides assured anyone that passed that I was cool stuff.
The moments I soak in from my teens and early twenties all have a smell. Don't most memories have a smell? I love that. The stinky, foul sweat of the guys after a football game (they always had to wrap their arms around us and get us all icky, didn't they?!). The sultry sweet fragrance that only a summer evening can deliver. So many nights I spent on our wooden swing out back, gazing at the heavens, wondering about life and my future.
Now that I'm a wife and a mom, I'm not as whimsical as I once was and I have to really concentrate on these precious moments before they fly by.
The tea was a lovely afternoon full of fragrant memories. A gift, a rare experience that's easy to capture.
Not so obvious, but more precious are (ironically) the everyday things that make up the meat of those lifetime memories:
The times I wrap my girls in a big fluffy towel after their bath and breathe in the scent of their freshly washed hair.
When Little Miss tiptoes onto the back porch in the morning with her worn blankie and sleepy gaze to sit in my lap. I set my Bible aside, pull her close and sip my coffee while we gaze on the field of corn coming to life beyond our back fence.
When Fo calls out in the car, "Mommy?" "Yes, Fo?" "Um-- I love you!" over and over in the car. After the first few shouts, I turn off the radio and just wait..."Mommy?"
When Boo throws her arms around my neck and squeezes--practicing her art of giving hugs. Nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to the feel of chubby toddler arms around my neck.
When Mr comes in from work while I'm prepping dinner and plants a kiss behind my ear and tells me my hair smells good.
Millions of moments pass me by with this family of mine. Thousands of them I don't notice or I ruin with a cranky attitude that rivals my toddler's.
Hundreds of moments I want to catch but it seems there are a dozen things up in the air I need to give attention to and the moment is gone before I turn around.
But. There are those precious few that sneak in and wrap me in their heady sweetness and I know they will not be forgotten.
Tonight I think I'll slow everything down and talk the Mr into a campfire out back where we can soak in the night and enjoy the sticky sweetness of s'mores and the kind of laughter only a group of people that adore one another can enjoy.