There was our now-toddler caught on video crawling down the hall towards the mini piano his big brother was "playing." There was our almost-nine-year-old daughter, then an imp-faced baby sliding down the slide at the playground we used to frequent every day. (I can't remember the last time I went there.) And then there was the video of our oldest, pushing a recycling bin through the hallways of the derelict high rise apartment building in which we used to live. That was what we used to do for a good time; he'd practice walking by holding on to the bin and if he got too stir-crazy in the tiny apartment we'd roam the hallways and ride the elevator down to the lobby.
And then there were the photos of my husband and I; hoisting babies up on our shoulders, tickling the kids until they were in fits with giggles, pushing swings, chasing toddlers down the street. We look so happy, my husband said. And we really did.
At the time those photos and videos were taken I'm pretty sure I couldn't get through the day without napping alongside my children I was so sleep-deprived, and I know that we were constantly running out of clean clothes and that I was spending hours washing my own cloth diapers and that I once walked into the kitchen to see a mouse rummaging through the dirty dishes and dried bits of dinner on our counter to find its own meal. At the time those photos were taken I struggled to get through the basics of daily life and household management - I know I did. I couldn't have been that happy all the time. I know those kids had tantrums and I had to drag them out of drop-in centers and kicking from play dates.
When I look at my life now it is just as hard to see the big picture - I am usually so caught up by what's immediately in front of me: the futsal session for soccer and the fact that I forgot to arrange a carpool for my son, the bobby pins that are missing when ballet starts in two minutes and my daughter's hair is nowhere near a bun, the scramble for coffee - now! - because my almost-three-year-old still doesn't sleep through the night.
But I don't take photos of those moments. And when I look back at my life in a few years from now I'm sure I'll have to squint to make them out, they'll be so out of focus. My little trip into the archives reminded me of the big picture I'm a part of - the picture that actually makes it into the frame - and it's a picture of joy and fulfillment and happiness, not in my day job or schedule or meal plan, not in decorations or house design or number of vehicles or annual income, but a picture of joy in relationships.
When I look back, that's all I can see. And I need to remember to enjoy the moments that I'm in right now when they're happening, because ultimately, I'm having the time of my life.
