Chapter One: Rushing to try this out.

I don't think God intentionally planned my life to be rushed by in a moment.

But some times, some days- that's all it feels like.

Like this week, for instance.

As I drag myself out of bed each morning, I can't help but try and recall the times when I would willingly be ABLE to jump out of bed when it was time. Now I stumble as I rush to my crying baby.

Sooner then I know it, I feel like I have been rushed into lunch after I gulp down my slim fast for breakfast.

Today, luckily, I was able to savor just a few moments of the day. As lunch time called, I prepped our soon-to-be-devoured food, by baking some cookies. Literally, baking. As in, I took out the sweet smelling chocolate balls of dough my mom had mixed together; and plopped them on a pan and put them in an oven. AKA: baking. 

Lovingly I arranged them on a plate like any good housewife would, and put them on the table for my husband as I went to get us milk. But out of the corner of my eye, I could see my husband innocently reaching across the table, grabbing a cookie, and handing it to our eight month old daughter.

 "Is it hot?" I asked tentatively.

"No, doesn't feel hot." Which was true, I knew they had cooled- but I was all too familiar with cookies and their deceiving hot centers. I watched Sariahs face, noting how her eyes went from pure joy as the cookie reacher her hand, to a flash of anger as her fingers flung into the cookies middle, then smiles as sweetness of the chocolate cookie reached her mouth. I sighed and sunk into my seat, eager to satisfy my own chocolate cravings.

And in peace, and in seconds, we ate our cookies. No rushing, just seconds filled with long silence. And then, suddenly, noise began, and Sariah was off screaming and wailing, and gnashing of her teeth. Immediately I jumped to her side, looked her in the face, and began to chime in. Recalling my warm-ups from my choir days, I began a series of octaves ranging from a low base, to a high soprano- stopping the child in question's uproar.

Reader, if you had been there, I swear you would have seen angels standing in awe at this childs sudden silence to my shrills

"Hey, when I go loud, she quiets down!" I said.

"I noticed" Joe grinned, patting the seat next to him, ever so slightly encouraging my to stop.

"You know what Sariah reminds me of? Steve Carell in Anchorman." Joseph said.

And with that, we laughed, recalling the moments, savoring the last few seconds before we were rushed off, once again, into life.