Where does the time go?

As I was rocking Roscoe to sleep this afternoon--swaying to a rhythm that I found months ago, my back arched slightly to accommodate Roscoe's near 20 pounds--I thought about how nice it must be being a baby. No understanding of the larger world and it's inherent challenges, no worries, no responsibilities. Only singing voices, familiar faces, and cool stuff to explore.

Today Roscoe inched forward on his belly, toes pushing him in the right direction, for the very first time. In a few days I don't doubt that he'll be crawling. And in the next few months: walking.

With his arms slung over my shoulders and his fingers tangled in my hair, his head nestled into the crook of my neck, my arm tucked securely under his little butt and my hand wrapped around his foot, I tried to think of a time when he'd be too big for such things.

It's so nice to take time out from a busy day to notice the details that make the hours and the minutes tick by at a furious pace, and gone forever.

Which moments make your day meaningful?