Vacation

We just finished a three night family vacation at a cabin just an hour and a half away and luckily no one got the stomach flu or some other icky virus like at  my nieces wedding, our nineteen hour drive to Branson, or even my short trip to my mother's house. I'll fill you in on these later or perhaps I'll spare you.
This little get away was just my husband, our five kids, and, of course, me. It was the type of vacation I want to somehow bottle up and pour over my pancakes when I'm old when the house is too quiet, and nothing feels right because someones always missing.
Of course, I would let the whining, complaining, and little bickering settle to the bottom of the syrup jar and just pour over the sweetness like the questions my nine year old likes to ask like, "If I could grow a beard would I?" I'd pour over the silly math game my six year old makes up which no one can understand except her and somehow she always wins, or how my three and a half year old spontaneously busts out, "I like you Mom," especially when there is ice cream around or she's done something naughty, or how my twenty month old puckers his lips into a flower whenever anyone says kiss, or how my eleven year old tells me her biggest secret is that she still likes to play dolls.
There is no way to carry these moments in a bottle and somehow I have to soak them in as they disappear for I see them slipping away as my eleven year old now looks around to see if anyone notice she is playing with little kid toys, and no longer steals my shoes because they are too small for her feet. Time moves on at the same pace no matter how we would like to speed things up or slow the clock down.
When we drove back after spending a day canoeing and playing in a beautiful forest surrounded lake, I realized I didn't take any pictures and my heart swelled at the thought that I might forget how our four girls climbed into the canoe with their dad and rowed all around the lake singing made up silly songs and splashing each other. I could see them float around as I sat with our baby in the shade. The happy picture I wished I could keep forever. For now, I'll just have to spill these words out sticky and sweet and cover a page.