It goes by so fast...

I can't even begin to count how many times I have heard this phrase from people. "Enjoy every minute, it goes by so fast," "They grow up so quickly."

Sometimes the cliches are true.

I want to hit "pause" a million times a day and just soak up the moment, capture the minute details of my little girl - that look she has or the glint in her eye, the way she pronounces a word, the way her hair falls across her face or her excitement when she first wakes up in the morning or from a nap. The way she says, "Hi" every morning and melts my heart, leaves me breathless and misty-eyed.

I want to write down each new word, each new sentence, each new discovery she makes and how it feels to watch her grow and learn and be fascinated by the world around her. I have not done a very good job of this and I often feel guilty when I hear other moms talk about the journals they keep for each of their children. I want everything written down. I want her to know some day how much I loved being her mother, how she is an absolute miracle to me, how her sunshine can brighten even the darkest of my days.

I feel like I will never be able to tell her these things enough. I will not remember every detail. I will forget how much she weighed at each doctor's visit. I will not have a journal filled with each tiny milestone.

But I have spent these moments with her. And some of them I will never forget. Each day is filled with a thousand and one gifts, more precious moments than I can ever count, more joy and laughter and living than I really ever imagined. Maybe that is why it goes by so fast - because it is so full.

It is full with moments like my big girl leaning over and snuggling a friend's six-month-old so tenderly and sweetly, then giggling while imitating the baby's happy kicking.

Reading books together - sometimes her on my lap, sometimes sitting in her own small rocker and wanting me to sit in the big rocker next to her. The ways she notices each detail, finds the tiny mouse on each page, whispers "hush" in all the right places.

The look of shock, pride and excitement on her face when she discovered how to turn the faucet on in the kitchen sink. Her fascination at feeling the difference between very cold water and warmer water (and watching the shivers and gasping as she repeatedly stuck her hand and arm into the icy stream).

Her love for her monkey pajamas, the way we both know the bedtime routine and find comfort and fun in following the same patterns throughout our day.

The way she cuddles in to my arms with her blankie and peacefully nurses - sometimes, all the way to dreamland. Then, her heavy, limp body in my arms, I could sit and listen to her breathe with her head on my shoulder forever, feeling her wispy hair against my cheek and the absolute peacefulness of her repose. Peaceful moments are more rare these days and all the more precious. I do my best to slow down, live each second, treasure them up in my heart.