Posted in Small Moments Monday

Small Moments Mondays…Thoughts?

It’s hard to believe, but I’ve been featuring Small Moments Mondays posts for nearly a year now.

And I have absolutely loved sharing with you the amazing words from so many amazing writers.

But, I’m wondering if you are all still enjoying these posts.

So, I’m opening it up to you to get your thoughts.

I want to know if you still look forward to this series or if you’re ready for something new.

(If you’d like to see SMM continue, cast your vote and maybe leave me a comment with the names of who you’d like to see featured here in the months to come.)

[poll id=”6″]

I Remember

This week, on Small Moments Mondays, I am elated to share with you a new friend…a friend whose writing sweeps me away and makes me feel and think and recenter. A woman who writes with such flow and beauty that she consistently leaves me in awe.

Whether you already know Galit, who write over at These Little Waves, or you are meeting her here for the first time, I am certain that you will love her as I do. She has a unique and lovely voice and an eye for those small moments that pull me in…those moments that I live for.

From the bottom of my heart, Galit, I thank you for sharing your words here.

Do you remember?by Galit

I touch my friend’s arm. She follows my gaze towards the family of three next to us. One curly haired toddler with a parent on either side of him; their finger-laced hands serving as a buffer and a shelter.

A slow smile warms her eyes and I instantly know that yes, she remembers.

She remembers huge strollers.

Overflowing diaper bags.

And ready sippy cups.

She remembers undivided attention.

Instant responses.

Just-the-right-size laps, snuggles, embraces.

And most of all, she remembers just one small being pulling at her heartstrings.

She remembers, and so do I.

That morning, each of us had already waved two children off to school. Made lunches. Signed reading logs.

Hugged and kissed and rushed and nagged and sent them along with only a hope that they’ve learned well at home. And a wish that they’re treated well at school.

No longer able to utilize the power of our laced fingers to protect them.

And then we shifted. We breathed the deep sighs of holding hands with just one child.

A third child who is always at everyone else’s events. Along for the ride. Knows to wait. To be patient. To be flexible. Just because he has to.

We share that story.

And when we see this family of three on a weekday outing at the zoo, we look on with wistful eyes reflecting thoughts of I remember.

Then, this other Mother turns around with one hand tousling her toddler’s hair and one hand touching her pregnant belly. And my heartstrings ache with bittersweet tugs, even stronger and more demanding than before.

Her hands aren’t just tousling and touching. They’re fiercely holding onto one true love while bracing to let another one into her folds.

And that, too, I understand. With every fiber of my being, I remember.

I remember holding newborn Chloe tightly in my arms and seeing two-year-old Kayli walk by, suddenly gigantic.

I remember finally walking Brody to sleep only to have Kayli and Chloe ready for snuggles and milk and books. Ready for me.

I remember tearily saying No. Not now. Please wait. Be patient.

Mostly, I remember my heart’s bandwidth stretching further than I ever thought possible.

Flashes of tears and laughter, exhaustion and joy, snuggles and completeness, fill a moment in time with these other Mothers; one friend and one stranger.

I walk through the zoo with my friend. My eyes and worries gracing just one. My fingers protectively laced with my son’s impossibly little ones. His warm fingers barely circling around just two of my own.

He looks me in the eye. He knows that I am his right now. His mischievous grin is wide; his giggle contagious. And I feel my heartstrings pull yet again.

We go see the diver, Mama? The fish feeding? The dolphins? I follow his lead and we walk away together, as two.

As we do, I lock eyes with this other Mother. And I know that our own shared smile sent the same message of motherhood camaraderie as it would if we knew each other’s stories more completely: I remember.


Now that you’ve read Galit’s words here, please go visit her. There are so many posts that I’m dying to point you to, but I’m going to try to use some restraint. Be sure that you don’t miss Fresh Fruit, Wishful Thinking, and Detour.

You can also find Galit on Facebook and Twitter.


About me

Nichole Beaudry @NicholeBeaudry Location: Northern California
Each and every day, I strive to appreciate the wonder, beauty, and whimsy in the small moments, the moments that, when strung together, form a lifetime.
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