Tag Archives: loving your kids

Everyday Exiles, faith, mommyhood

Learning to Savor the Littles

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This piece originally appeared on Everyday Exiles under the title ‘The Years Are Short’.

If I’ve read it once, I’ve read it a thousand times: The days are long, but the years are short.

If I’ve been told once, I’ve been told a thousand times: Oh, but you’ll miss this.

I’m not here to argue with either of those things. But I will take a moment to respond.

The days are pretty frequently long, specifically when you’re not sleeping much, and you’re not able to easily get out of the house for a few hours. But recently I’ve been relishing this new season of mobile kids, flexible naps, and the youngest one almost being potty trained. The light is at the end of the tunnel for being able to just pick up and go somewhere without packing the whole house, or to eat at a semi-nice restaurant without calling a babysitter, or turn my back for a few minutes at a time. I’ve been waiting for the times I could read a book in a different room and not come back to wails and cries or colored walls. But there’s also evidence that we aren’t totally out of those woods, and likely never will be. They’re great playmates, but I still need to run interference sometimes. Yes, I am able to sneak off for a few minutes at a time, but they’re usually finding me and needing snacks within the first few pages I read.

As far as missing it, I do. Already. I’m in that strange limbo of knowing it’s over before it’s truly over, missing the little things I know will end soon, even while they’re still happening. So when my almost-three-year-old wants me to sing him eight songs, give him four kisses and three hugs at bedtime, I’m SO here for it. When my (truly very heavy) four-year-old wants me to carry him every once in a while, I pick him up and do it. When my six-year-old wants an extra bedtime song, or to help me make everyone’s breakfast – even if it’s much faster when I do it alone – I try to oblige her.

I don’t want to look back and live with a regret that I did not taken the time to soak up my little children… their summer-sweaty hair, their still-round cheeks, their improperly-pronounced words, and their affection for their mama that I’m sure as teenagers they won’t have. How much counseling would I need to live with that regret? How many times will I still ask God to never let these memories fade?

Yes – so many things are important right now in their short lives. They’re sponges, soaking up information, ideas, words, and actions. They’re learning citizenship, responsibility, faith, and love. I could spend an entire day just trying to keep up with those things in what I do. But sometimes I just want to sit and watch them, to hold their hands, to let them eat the ice cream for dinner because there are more of those toothy smiles that way.

So tomorrow morning, I’ll get up bleary-eyed and thankful, praising the Creator of these little treasures that are actually the biggest treasures I could possibly have.

mommyhood, random thoughts

‘Twas the First Day of Kindergarten

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‘Twas the First Day of Kindergarten: An Ode to Parents’ Feelings

‘Twas the first day of kindergarten,
And all through the town
The fathers and mothers were
Not at all sitting down.
They were packing the lunches
And setting out clothes,
Filling the water bottles
And wiping their nose.
For, you see, they were trying
To keep themselves busy
So it’d be easier to hide
All the crying and wishing
For just one more day
With their sweet little dears.
So they washed some more dishes
To hide the falling tears.

But then they remembered
The tantrums and tears
Over small things and large things
Like scratches or fears.
They’d make mountains of molehills
And things inconsequential.
They kept saying, “MOM!”
Till there was potential
For a nervous breakdown!
Or at least an explosion
Of some stressful shouting
That would cause a commotion.
They remembered those times
That they’d almost forgotten,
Of cleaning up messes
And wiping all the bottoms.

But between feelings of love,
And feelings of relief,
The parents would still know
That the school day is brief.
Their children would return,
Tired but happy.
They’d want to chat, have a snuggle,
And maybe take a nappy.
Then it’s dinner, and a bath,
And send them off to their beds,
The moms and dads needing
To rest their own heads.

It takes energy to love
All those little ones well,
And to worry and fret
Over healthy food or weird smells.
We’re entrusted these kids
For the shortest of seasons.
How can we not also
Give hundreds of reasons
To be protective and kind,
Giving all the hugs and kisses?
One day they’ll be grown,
And we’ll be the ones who miss them.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, parenting fails

Parenting is a tough gig.

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Some days, parenting can be tiring, lonely, annoying, or just plain hard. Yes, it can rewarding, beautiful, hilarious, and heartwarming, too. But some days, it’s just a tough gig.

 There are endless bottles to make, diapers to change, naps to protect, blankets to find (or wash), stuffed animals to love on, toys to pick up, laundry to do, tiny shirts to fold, and matching shoes to locate when you’re trying to leave the house. There are moments of sheer exhaustion hearing the 28,562nd question from your toddler, or waking up the fourth time in the same night with your infant whose sleeping has regressed. There are moments of, “I’m totally fed up!” when your little nurser just won’t take a bottle from her Daddy, or when your toddler’s twelfth tantrum of the day just pushed you over the edge. There are times that you pack up and go to the grocery store when you don’t need anything, because you might run into an adult you know, and be able to speak in complete sentences without being interrupted.

I know there are days (like today, in fact) that I want to lock my kids in their room, turn on some loud music, drown myself in ice cream, and have a few minutes that I’m not hearing them bicker over toys, or cry because they’re tired but won’t nap. Do I do that? No. But that doesn’t mean the thought never crossed my mind. I also know that when they’re in middle school, or when they’re teenagers, I’ll have days like that for different reasons. Forgotten homework, squabbles with friends, discipline problems at school, attitude problems and messy bedrooms could all be contenders in the race to make a mama crazy. I’m under no illusion that once all my kids are wearing underwear instead of diapers and going to school till 3:00 pm, my “problems” are over.

But I also know that I love my kids well. They know I love them, that I’m there for them, that I’ll dry their tears, kiss their boo-boos and sing them a song (that I made up, about a car driving by, at the request of my daughter). They are secure in that, even on my bad days, when I just want to plop them in front of the tv, and zone out. Or when we have cereal for breakfast. And lunch. And dinner. We survive those days, the kids and I, and I dare say we aren’t any worse off for it. Because hey, being a parent is no joke.