It never fails...I think I am slipping into my bedroom for some quiet nursing time and within minutes everyone is in there. My space invaded. My thoughts come to a screeching halt. My quiet vanishes. To be honest, I have a hard time not resenting these moments. I know many say to treasure them..."they pass so quickly." And really, deep down I do...or at least I anticipate doing in the future...appreciating the moments that is. But in this moment, I just need a moment...to remember what I had planned for dinner...to finish praying for that person that I think I started to pray for two days ago and I am pretty sure the thing I was praying about is already over...to decide...after this fleeting moment is over, am I going to start that dinner, change the 2-year-old, take a shower, or return that phone call from 3 days ago. Last Friday the 2 y.o. was dressed by dinner time, but there was no dinner to be found. On Saturday dinner was served, but Greta, I am afraid to say was still in her pajamas. How does this happen? The moments aren't fleeting, they're magic. They completely disappear - without even a memory.