I hope they’ll be friends forever.

With each step I took in the cool morning rain, clarity infused my mind. As I scaled the rocks nearing the summit of the mountain it occurred to me: “If life is so short, why then, are we so deeply and at times desperately invested in how we spend our time and who we spend our lives with?”

Seems to me, this may be the ultimate conundrum.

She’s 7 1/2 and nothing is quite good enough, lasts long enough, or is big enough. My Princess Sara…the universe, of course, revolves around her don’t you know? We are players in her innocent game and dancers in her elaborate show. Each day includes power struggles, stomping off, rolling of the beautiful green eyes and at least one door-slamming.

I was reminded of this repeatedly as we enjoyed an afternoon at the County Fair. We had strolled the dusty paths, perused the carney fodder, eaten sinful fair-food and ridden a dozen rides. We watched a show, played some games, and spent all of Dad’s money. And at the end while the sun was setting there we were in the middle of the fairway. Sara with tears in her eyes that she wanted more! Not understanding that one ride-ticket wouldn’t get us anymore she finally yelled in frustration, “But it’s not fair!”

I took a deep breath and looked up. To the left I watched a group of tween boys and girls hanging out. They wore goth-like attire and shared a common and bit creepy deer-in-the-headlight gaze. I just smiled. “Thankfulness” was my only emotion. I reached out for my kid’s hands. Quietly knowing it was time to call “Uncle”, they instinctively reached back out for mine.

As we made our way back to the car the lights and sounds behind us faded away. The moment was mine to savor – the moment where my babies still hold my hand in crowds, they still listen to me and believe in what I have to say. The moment when I know where they are and who they’re with. These moments that I am hanging on to as long as I possibly can.

So Sara I say to you, bring it on! Bring on the whining, complaining, huffing and puffing. It will not daunt me. Being your mother is the most wonderful and fairest thing in the land.

Our most precious assets – Nathaniel and Sara.

Little baby boys. One day, swaddled in innocence and love. He is content and finds peace in nothing more than your arms. The next, you’re making dinner and hear him yelling at the top of his lungs. You gander out your kitchen window, speechless, as he has found peace by blasting holes with his 4-wheeler in the pool inflatables.

*LEGAL DISCLAIMER: In no way, shape or form does SaraBear Company or any authorized person, employee or affiliated person of SaraBear (past, present or future) condone or promote the uses of products seen in this blog post. Never place a baby in a SaraBear diaper caddy. SaraBear Company is not affiliated with Sarah Neal Designs. Melissa takes no responsibility for keeping clothes on her son.

Melissa with her new nephew, Alexander, enjoying 65 degrees

Hard-core Wii champs, Mark and Sara…tired but not stoppin’.

In addition to the holidays, my baby turned seven…Unbelievable! Like us moms say, “It seems just like yesterday she was a baby, where did the time go?” Now it’s High School Musical, the Jonas Brothers on CD and texting with her Nintendo DS to her friends. Wow.

And The Nater, who has definitely found comfort in his own skin and silly sense of humor, got his Kawasaki 4-Wheeler from Santa (although shown here with his cousin’s super-dooper new bike, thanks Hannah!) and is growing up so fast. He whizzes around the garage on the 4 wheeler like he’s been riding one for years. Must be a boy-thing.

Notice the tough-guy Pooh helmet

The ball has dropped in Times Square and the last of the holiday decorations are packed away. Although my kids love the holidays (I did too when I was little) I must admit it’s not my favorite time of year. Maybe it’s the cold of upstate New York, the frenzy of the parking lots, or the memories of losing my Mom on a cold December day. As I type the numbers 2.0.0.9 the past couple of days, I am very thankful to have a little time now to finally hit the pause button on my life, take a crystal-clear look back at ‘08, reminisce, and breathe a deep, well-deserved breath. We’ll see if I can catch it.

“Wanna go to Hick’s? We can take the kids and pick some apples.”

And the fog clears. A three year old in blue jeans and a hoodie, luminous eyes looking up at you, “We goin’ to pick apples?” followed by a sniff and a swipe at his little button nose with his shirt sleeve. A smile spreads across his face and butterflies alight in your tummy, like a crush, but better.

“Yeah, let’s go pick apples.”

Six and three grab your hands, “Mom, Dad? We love you.”

And so it is that instead of flitting between the laundry room and the kitchen, you find yourself between trees heavy with Macouns and Cortlands, breathing in the scent of your sweet baby’s head as your husband watches you with a smile that brings back early day memories to the soundtrack of your daughter’s laughter.

Later, as I headed out to work, I spied a mama deer and her two babies taking breakfast just past my house.

Behind the family breakfast, an Adirondack waterfall.

This is my every day. Lucky days, indeed