It’s the little things.

The little things we know we will miss when they are a little older…

The little things left, dropped or placed by little hands all over the house.

The lego. The gemstone. The sock. The Barbie shoe. The hair tie. The crayon. The trading card. The pencil.

It’s the little moments when we snag a hug and try to forget the little tantrum from hours before…

And the little sticks they find on the beach that lead to magical structures.

It’s the little things they say and do, the ones we wish we could capture forever…

And the little dinosaurs they find and set up to soon roar in faraway lands.

It’s the little crumbs here and there…

And the little fingerprints that mark the newly cleaned window, the ones grandmas never want to wipe clean.

It’s the little drawings and notes that we never want to throw away….

And the little creations formed when electronics are put away and fingers instead tap organically.

It’s the little questions every hour of every day...

The little things that sometimes make us as frustrated as we are appreciative.

All the little things that we will one day truly miss.

It's the little things.

A version of this piece originally appeared here