Tonight, I rinsed the last few dishes, started the dishwasher, wiped off the counters, checked my cupboard to make sure I had ingredients for tomorrow's dinner, turned off the lights, checked the parking lot to see if John was home yet, then I headed for my room to lay down while I waited for him. I was soon stopped by a pile of blocks on the floor. I saw clearly in my mind about an hour before, William had dumped them out so he could sort the shapes. In the moment, I had to fight every bit of exasperation I was feeling as it was almost bed time and I was about to vaccum the hallway. Johnny had said, "I'll help you, William!" and William looked up and smiled big, "Nank You Nonny!" They had got about half way through their pile when they must have gotten distracted with something else, because here those blocks were, in the middle of my hallway halfway sorted by shapes. I started to pick up the blocks by handfuls and I found myself smiling. As overflowing their energy is during the day, I feel the void they leave once they are asleep, I treasure the little remnants of their play I find around the house. It's like I get to take one last deep breath of their little exploring spirits before I call it a night. Of course I had to peep in on them one last time and I my heart burst four times in the course of thirty seconds. Gosh. Those kids are mine. I feel so grateful and overwhelmed at the amazing blessing they are in my life. I know it is premature but a part of me is dying as I feel the sand slipping through the hourglass and I can sense the permanance of a day ending. Today isn't going to happen tomorrow. Tomorrow they will all be one day older and at least one of them will change if only in the littlest bit. I am enjoying my role as they grow and become, but goodness, let's slow down a bit. And that is what I thought one block at a time.