Little Helpers

As I sliced tomato for BLTs last night, I heard a frantic banging on the front door.  I poked my head around the corner to see the Happy Critter's little eyes peeking through the glass.  He kept banging on the door and started to yell, "MOOOOOMMMMM!"  I opened the door and he said, "Mister's crying!"  I looked outside to see him in the street, bike tipped, holding his knee.

I turned around and The Goose was on my heels.  I said, "Tell Daddy to pull the bacon, please."  I darted to the man down, removed his helmut, and swooped him up grabbing his bike with my free hand.  Then I heard a little voice behind me, "I got the bike, Mom."  The Goose.

I took the boy to the bathroom and cleaned him up.  We talked over how he fell, if this skinned knee was more painful or less painful than his previous injury a few days prior.  I trimmed my nails and he gathered himself.  Then we heard a little voice, "Mom, how's Mister feeling?  The Happy Critter.

It struck me with these little, ordinary events how kind and caring my kids actually are.  When one of them is hurt, or sick, the others actually show thoughtful and loving actions.  They help.

In motherhood there are little details that disappear.  How it happens is simple, there are so many incredibly special moments and stressful moments that my brain can't possibly remember them all. There just is not enough space - motherhood moments should get more brain real estate, but they get muddled up with field trip money reminders and work...so I write it down and pray the internet never fails me.  

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