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We hosted our annual holiday party last Saturday night. It was wonderful. So many friends from so many different parts of our lives coming together. It's become one of our very favorite nights of the year. So many fun and festive moments, but I will tell you about one in particular.

I stood with a neighborhood friend in our kitchen. She told me that she saw Husband, the girls and me walking up Broadway about a month ago. All five of us were holding hands.  It was picturesque, she said. A scene from a Norman Rockwell painting. And I smiled when she said these things. Because I remember that afternoon. We were on our way to the bookstore and, yes, for a moment things were sparkly and sweet and pretty much perfect. But then. There were epic meltdowns at the store. I told her this. And I told her that I have thought about that day, that fleeting moment of hand-holding, because so many moments are not like this.

We must cling to the really beautiful times.

I pointed to the kitchen counter and told her that I sometimes hop up there with my phone to take pictures of the girls with their dad. That I try very hard to capture the in-between, utterly real moments, the snips of time that don't show up in holiday cards. I said something. That before we know it, our kids are going to be big and life will be different. This friend? She had tears in her eyes. You need to write about this, she said.

Have you noticed that this is what this blog is becoming all about? About wrestling with Time and with Love? About taking a bit of time to honor the moments big and small?

Above, Husband indulges in a morning matching game with his three little ladies.

RM2 My tiniest artist shows off her latest holiday masterpiece. The cat approves.

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Big Girl waits for her school bus.

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A silly, sparkling manicure seems about right this time of year.

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While shopping for plastic party cups, I bought these. Light-up presents. I'm in love with them. And the fact that there are three. Big. Middle. Little.

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The Elf on the Shelf is a big part of our December. Here, Scout does what we love to do on a Saturday morning. He hangs out.

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When we were decorating our home years ago and we'd settled on highlighter yellow for the living room, I worried some that it wouldn't look good at Christmas time. Oh was I wrong.

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On the day of our party, I hit midtown and it was insanely packed but I got to take in some great sights. Behold the brilliant Cartier red.

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Fancy hair by Aki + Fancy makeup by Kimara = Happy ADR.

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Just a little proof that I am able to have fun at my own parties.

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Sister C and her sweet kiddos come to stay. Here: An early morning Christmas tree dance.

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The best kind of mayhem ensues when we attempt a front stoop photo shoot.

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I whisk Middle Girl down to Chelsea Piers for a bowling birthday party. In the taxi, she turns to me and says out of nowhere, "Mommy, I love you."

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A tiny peek at the wonderful results from our winter photo shoot with Photo Op NYC.

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A sink full of dishes. A heart full of wishes.

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There are books you devour even when you don't have the time. Not because they are good, and they are, but because they unlock something in you. And when you flip the final page, tears in your tired eyes, realization in your happy heart, the world is new and so are you. (Thank you, Joan.)

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Middle Girl cuddles with Daddy before her sisters wake up. His mug says it all: Work less. Play more. Enjoy life.

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Snow!

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The big girls delay bedtime by making snowmen.

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After the girls go to sleep, I hang this. The next morning, they freak out.

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Oh, this makes me happy.

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The littles hold hands on the way to school. Love how the pink on the sidewalk matches their pink shoes.

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What you seek is seeking you. Oh how I love this.

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I throw on my very favorite pearl necklace, a Christmas gift from Husband several years ago, to head downtown to a friend's holiday party. It takes an eternity to make it there. The traffic is brutal and we abandon our cab to walk several blocks to the subway. More than an hour later, we arrive. And when we do, I see this...

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Magic. The letters are big and brilliant.

What you seek is seeking you.

Oh yes.

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Mothering in the Urban Wild