There's something about being the last-born that makes even the most ordinary events seem special. Joel had a field trip. It wasn't anything extravagant. Just a hike through the woods with his preschool class. I've done it twice before with my other two when they were this age and I honestly can't remember much about it. Yet, because he's my last, and I know this is the last time I'll do this field trip, I knew I had to enjoy it and take it all in for good. Those cute little binoculars they get that are made from two toilet paper tubes? The ones I threw away not long after the novelty of them wore off for my first two? Somehow I just can't part with the binoculars this time. It is such a gift to be home with my babies and to get to take in these little, ordinary moments. It's an especially wonderful gift to be doing this all with my last child. I feel like I have learned to slow down and savor all of his moments so much more. Perhaps it's because I don't have anyone younger than him that is needing so much of my time and attention. But it also might be because I see just how quickly it all goes by and how truly enjoyable each of these fleeting phases is. It was a blast to walk through the woods holding my three year old's tiny hand. We looked for leaves, stopped and stared at a spider spinning a web, and saw all kinds of cool animals in the nature center. To an average person, it wouldn't be much of a memorable morning, but to us it was filled with moments to cherish forever.
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