Yesterday evening Rick was sitting on our bed playing the guitar.  I was in the midst of getting the boys ready for bed, but when I walked by our room and saw him sitting there, the thought of laying on the bed next to him and listening to him play was just too inviting, so I did.  The boys quickly hopped on the bed with us, and soon we were wrapped up in a sweet family moment.

Rick and Mason sat side by side, and Mason strummed the guitar and started singing "Moving to the country, gonna eat a lot of peaches...."  He was so into the strumming and Rick and I sang the song right along with him, which made him grin.

Vaughn was shimmying his way up our bed post, and climbing to the top of it.  He would smile proudly when he'd reach the top and say "Look at me!  Look what I can do!"  After he was done climbing and jumping around our bed, he took a turn at the guitar too.  He made up his own song that was also a story.  I wish I could remember what it was about.

We all just sat there for a good twenty or thirty minutes singing, laughing, climbing, and visiting.

I remember as a child and adolescent having similar moments at home.  There were so many times when my parents would be sitting in bed relaxing or visiting with their door open, and it was like a magnet for me and my siblings.  Soon it seemed like whoever was home, would pile on the bed and we'd all just visit and joke and spend time together.  I think we even had a name for it.  We called it "the family flop."  At least I think we did.

Often times as a mother I wonder what I will miss most about this time in my life.  There is a quote from the president of my church, Thomas S. Monson, that I've often heard quoted.  He said:

"Rather than dwelling on the past, we should make the most of today, of the here and now, doing all we can to provide pleasant memories for the future…If you are still in the process of raising children be aware that the tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered about the house, the piles and piles of laundry to be tackled, will disappear all too soon, and that you will, to your surprise, miss them, profoundly." 

I love this quote, but I like to joke that as nice as a man as I'm sure he is, he was most decidedly not the one who was cleaning up fingerprints and tackling piles of laundry on a regular basis.  I'd love to hear what his wife misses the most about raising young children.

I wonder though, if I will miss those things after my children are grown.  I really don't know.  There are things that I'm certain I will miss-- their sweet little faces and voices.  The funny things they say every day, and the cute questions they ask.  Nursing them, holding them and singing to them.  Reading them stories.  Playing with them.

But I also think that the simple moments like last night--  the sweet times together as a family where nothing really significant happens will be some of the memories that I both cherish and miss the most when my children are grown.

They are the moments that I feel the most happy to be right where I am with the people I love most.