The eyes of a child...

Tonight was very special. 

Tonight was one of those nights that you know you'll carry with you always. One of those moments you have etched in your heart forever.

Tonight I took Elizabeth to her first outdoor movie.

Let me just say, it was magical!
Witnessing life through the eyes of a child, seeing everything anew through them, is one of the most special and precious things you can experience in this life. To watch a child's eyes, your child's eyes, light up at all the new things to see, to breathe in, to digest--it is simply ethereal. 

And tonight was very special because I got to do just that. 

 I watched Elizabeth watching her first outdoor movie: Toy Story III. And probably the first movie-theater-experience she will remember.

Watching her eyes like saucers, sparkling in the dusk--reflecting the glisten of the movie screen, and of the stars, and of her excitement--listening to her commentary and questions, feeling the cool breeze on a hot night, looking up at a crystal sky, holding my daughter--and to literally feel her delight and wonder and amazement, and even quivers of fear, pulse through her little body, it was priceless.

"Mommy, look! What's that? What are they doing? Look at those lights? Are we getting popcorn? Is the movie starting? Where's Woody? Oh noooooo! Where are they going? Yaaaaay! They're safe! Buzz is silly! Mommy, the stars! I see the stars! Awwww! They love each other! What's that? I need to go potty! What are they doing? Yaaaaay! They found Andy! Yaaaaaay! This was a great movie, Mommy! I love the movie theater!"  

At one point the audience was completely quiet, and Elizabeth let out a very loud and very funny, "Hey... Wait a minute....!" And everyone in the audience laughed.

In short, there was LOTS of laughter, LOTS of questions, and LOTS of popcorn!

And as I held my baby girl and watched as the character in the film, Andy, headed off to college, I could help but see a glimpse of that in our future. I know it won't be but a blink of an eye before Elizabeth and Liam's toys are packed away, when my children are headed off to wherever life takes them. Sometimes when I think about that, think about how quickly my children will be grown, and how this wonderful and magical time in our life will be over, when I think on that, my heart just hurts. I know it is selfish of me to want them to stay little, but what mom hasn't felt that way? Hasn't longed to stop time, to keep her little ones little--needing her, her needing them. Motherhood is such a conflicting force--part elation at the new stages they are reaching and the milestones they accomplish, part pride in seeing them grow and develop into little people, and at the very same time, part grief in the realization they are reaching those milestones, and inching further and further from your reach. Of course, as Andy tells his mom in film, "Mom, I'll always be here." I suppose he's right. But that doesn't stop momentary pangs of sorrow from striking a mother's heart at the realization that her children are not really hers to begin with. Which is also why a night like tonight was so special--time to get away from the hustle and bustle of life, to be truly present and appreciative and to just soak everything in.

A velvet memory, for sure.

Thank you, Elizabeth, for allowing me to see again the wonder and beauty in so many things that along the way had lost their twinkle and shine. I hope such things never get lost along the way for you--and that you always marvel at the beauty in life! And that you might always know how much joy you bring my heart and that I love you and your brother beyond words.

...     ....    ....

Okay... I'm done being sappy now! ;)