Stop. Collaborate. And listen.

It's five AM and I am awake again. Another restless night with the loudest baby in creation. I thank Providence that I do not require great sleep to function well(ish).

There was a moment yesterday. A moment that almost passed me by. A moment so thinly veiled in it's innocence that I nearly chose to pass it up.

A house in disorder. A bowl of brightly colored beads scattered across the floor. Raw chicken on the counter waiting to be turned into something edible. And a little girl asking me to dance.

It's easy to brush her off with the list of things that I must accomplish in order to feel sane. It's easy to sit her in front of the T.V. and make promises about a "later" that may never come. It's so easy to get swept up in the mundane details of the everyday that we forget what makes this life unforgettable.

And so I stopped. And we danced. We danced to Queen's Another One Bites The Dust. And we laughed. Once again in that moment I was reminded that these few minutes, these few precious minutes are the fulfillment of childhood visions.

Here we are. My daughter and I. MY daughter. I dreamed about these moments as a child. Forgot about them for awhile during the time I was a veritable Johnny Appleseed of "wild oats". And then, when the time was right, they found me.

So, we let the beads fall where they may. And we let the chicken sit on the counter (but not long enough to cause salmonella). And we danced. For a few moments all the things that seemed so pressing, fell away.

Sometimes memories happen all on their own. And sometimes we have to stop and make them.