I don’t want to forget

I don’t want to forget how, the first time I gave Kyeler a raisin, he held the tiny wrinkled thing up to me and proclaimed, “Football!”

I don’t want to forget the Easter egg hunt we had in the backyard with our neighbors, how the weather was perfect, and how we made up games to play with the empty plastic eggs afterwards.

I don’t want to forget the way CJ reminds me approximately twenty times per day about when all four of us went to the mall and saw a train: “Dada! Mall! Choo choo!”

I don’t want to forget the way the boys shout, “Amen!” after we pray with them.

I don’t want to forget the time Eiden walked into our house and promptly said, “Alexa, tell Josh he’s my best friend in the whole world.”

I don’t want to forget the way Kyeler sits on my lap with a blanket after naptime, content to look at books forever (or at least until CJ wakes up). 

I don’t want to forget our family walks after dinner, when Josh and I catch up on the day and we stop to chat with neighbors and the boys eat bananas in the double stroller.

I don’t want to forget how CJ gets positively ecstatic when he sees a pile of apples at the grocery store, and how, if I buy him one, he will hold onto it for hours.

I don’t want to forget taking the boys to the tulip fields one sunny afternoon in April, watching them run around happily, looking at flowers and waving at horses.

I don’t want to forget Kyeler’s first dentist appointment—how he sat so calmly in my lap, and gave the dentist’s blue-gloved hand a high five at the end of the visit.

I don’t want to forget how CJ emphatically begins every sentence with “I,” and then adds a random word he knows. I, mama. I, dada. I, ball.

I don’t want to forget the way the boys wave at neighbors and point to airplanes and help me water my plants in the afternoon.

I don’t want to forget how Kyeler will proudly insert, “I’m two!” into a conversation, holding up anywhere between 1 and 5 fingers.

I don’t want to forget how much more alive I feel when I’m in a regular rhythm of writing.

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