my foot curled up as my big toe met a glop of cool goo on the floor as I scurried around the kitchen.  the baby was crying, reminding me that he needs breakfast, too.  the older one was bright eyed while my own eyes were still struggling to accept that daylight was here.  she was listing the things I was to do for her while she sat perched on a stool wrapped in a warm blanket.  the sweet tones of her three-year-old voice quickly turned to whines as I wasn't meeting her demands fast enough.  I had to stop to wipe my toe and scrape the floor.  It had sat there overnight, unknown to me.  It seemed as though all I had done since I crawled out from under my covers was a countless number of thankless jobs.  and piles of spit up drenched laundry was next on the list.  some of the same clothes I had just washed and folded not even 48 hours before.  in these small moments, things seem so insignificant.  it's easy to think that my attitudes and reactions, no matter how big or small, won't be a remembered part of our history.  but as I looked down to discover the yogurt tube had been thrown on the dining room floor and not in the trash, I was reminded that these tiny moments matter more than anything.  there will be no wasted years of "just taking care of the needs of my young children."  how I choose to respond to my children time after time will stay with them for the rest of their lives.  yes, I have told her countless times that trash must be put in the trash.  and this time and many times to come, that didn't happen.  no, I don't want a day to come where I'm picking up all of the garbage from my teenagers.  but for now, she's still learning her responsibilities and needs many reminders.  and many reminders that she can talk to me without the whine.  she spent her infancy crying to communicate her needs.  suddenly, the expectation of our children changes to "don't you whine at me!" but they are to be taught that, and it might take some time.  my children will watch me and the way I react will show them how to treat me in return, their father, each other, their friends, future spouse, future children.  I am reminded of how I disappoint my Father daily, and yet His grace and mercies are new each morning.  that is the kind of parental love I want to show my sweet babies and how I want to win their hearts.  how I want to hopefully secure our healthy relationship into their adulthood.  how can I expect them to come to me someday with the big things if I'm exasperated with them at the little things?  one of my favorite authors, Sally Clarkson, says in her book The Mission of Motherhood "In each area of training and life-giving provision for my children, my goal is to make the Lord real--his character, beauty, love, justice, truth, excellence, and purposes.  My goal is to touch my children's hearts with the overwhelming wonder of his presence.  As I seek to gently and lovingly expose my children to the natural greatness of God's being, my hope is that their own devotion will naturally arise out of the wellspring of their full hearts."  those lines are some that I read often as I recharge and remind myself of the wonderful gifts the Lord has given to me, my children.