Little ones, I hope that you won't remember the ever rushing, or the grumping.
That the must-do's and the to-do's and the had-to's fade fast from memory.
I hope you remember the days we threw them out the window and went and did something just because it would be a delightful thing to do.
I hope you remember today.
Hunting down the park we'd spotted days ago, with it's glow of orange; rows and rows of trees letting go of their clothes.
I hope you remember the frivolous activity of being up to your neck in autumn leaves.
You. Their mama.
I hope you remember hunting down those trees.
That ever-present list of things that needed to be done plaguing the back of your mind.
Knowing that the promise of finding the autumn leaves would mean that the washing wouldn't get folded, and the kitchen would be filthy until much later, and the floor would still be unswept at 9pm.
I hope you remember that it was worth every second of the grins on their faces, and the silly one that made it's way onto yours.
That it's moments like these that truly matter, and that the state of your house will be forgotten but that time their mama was carefree and fun will be etched on hearts and minds for much longer.