A morning for memories...

I've been pondering lately how quickly life seems to be passing by. Just a few moments ago it seems I was home alone with a talkative toddling 9 month old, and now she's a dancing, singing, reading, writing 6 year old. I've also got a thoughtful, artistic five year old, a strong and joyful four year old, his constantly talking two year old side-kick (who happens to be everybody's best friend- and he's not little, he's little big), and another 9 month old beauty, a cheerful little princess who's everybody's favorite.
This is what motherhood is like. It's missing their past, seeing and choosing to love their present, and hoping for their future. I've covered their past... let's look at the present.
This morning at 0 dark 30, we were awakened by pounding feet, slamming doors, and screaming. So far pretty normal. Ian stumbled out of bed and I rolled over, semi-conscious that something wasn't quite right. I heard Ian flush the toilet and spend some time (I thought) in the bathroom before he came back in the room. Gabriel said "I throwed up in my bed and nobody came so I slept on the stairs." Ian took care of the first round before getting ready for work. Gabriel threw up once more before I came stumbling out of my room not ready for another day of life (I'm not sleeping well). I was greeted with "Good morning, Mom!" on all sides- oh wait that was a dream. In reality it was- Mooooooommm! III'mmm HUNGRY from every mouth at once. I had to cook breakfast, which probably took about 25 minutes between doing dishes, starting laundry, wiping the counters and floor a bit, and changing diapers. The entire time I was followed around by a screaming, whining 2yo Asher, who hurt. Where do you hurt? Right here, gesturing vaguely at his head. Where do you hurt? Right here- same thing. Where do you hurt. MY EAR- screaming at the top of his 2 yo lungs. Ok, I get it. Gabe is crying too now, his throat hurts. Breakfast is on the table, but Gabe gets nothing but a piece of toast. "I'm still hungry." When your tummy hurts you can only eat a little bit. "But, MOM, I'm STILL hungry." Sorry, son. I move to clean up from cooking breakfast, make Micaela feed Elizabeth, and then Asher decides he's too dirty to eat (his breakfast is all over his hands, clothes, face and the table). So, I clean him up and remove his clothes, and knowing that he'll be hungry later, I tell him to finish his food. No, he cries, he's too cold and he's not done. So I feed him, and he decides to eat. I hear the laundry buzz, and go to switch it (it's the throw up bed clothes from last night). While I'm gone Asher breaks done again because he's cold and he hurts. Laundry's drying and a new load is starting, so I take Asher for a warm bath. Just when I get him covered in shampoo, I hear Gabriel throwing up his toast in the other bathroom. MoooOOOOoomm, he wails, I don't feel good AND I'm HUNGRY. I wash Ash, and put my staph infected Nathaniel in the tub to scrub while I go to dress Asher. After he's dressed, I laid him all bundled up on the couch, and realize I've forgotten Elizabeth in her high chair. No worry, she's asleep with her head hanging at some crazy angle and cream of wheat all over her face and clothes. I took a moment to peak out the window, and I saw two cardinals, a big blue jay and two huge black birds in the field. It'd be nice to get outside and play today, but it's too cold. I've started Micaela on math, and she's already finished the dishes- what a blessing. The laundry's buzzed again, and now Lizzy's crying. Just a little peak at my fairly normal life!
The future? I see so many things for them. I have hopes and fears, but really I want to see what they choose as they grow. They continually surprise me.

***A note on the future- As we've started studying the Middle Ages, Micaela assures me that she would never want to be a Nun because you can't grow up to have kids, but Nathaniel might be a soldier king even if he had to fight a battle***