I wrote this seven years ago...it's still true...
I find myself talking to young moms lately...at playgroups, church, the park...women with kids come together and we inevitably begin sharing our 'war' stories.
Maybe it's because I'm facing 40 in a few more months, maybe it's because I waited and hoped for children for longer than most of the other moms I meet, but I am a little saddened by the desire to rush through this time in the trenches.
Yes, young children are a lot of work. They wear us down and wear us out and some days it seems like it will never end, we will never get 'our lives' back, never again have 'me' time.
In particular I hear younger moms tiring of breastfeeding and the late night trips to the nursery. I'm still doing that myself and trust me, it's a lot harder at 40 than at 25 or 30. But I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm in no hurry for it to end....
This time, these few precious years, will not come again, we will not pass this way again. Nor will our children.
The other night, about 3 a.m., after nursing my little one, I just held her, sleeping in my arms, trying to memorize those soft cheeks and fragile eyelids. I watched her gentle breathing and bent my head to smell that sweet smell only babies have. And I smiled with joy and wonder and the miracle of the little life in my arms...a life that all too soon will not need this nightly nourishment from me, will not need me to change and feed and clothe her, will not need the reassurance of my arms to drift off to sleep.
As I headed back to bed, I paused to look in on my son, almost 5 now and becoming more independent each day. I hear choruses of "I can do it myself" and "Don't worry mommy, I'm a big boy now, I don't need help." And I strain my memory to remember those late nights in the nursery when all he wanted was the comfort of my breast and my arms. I love the little man he has become, but some days I wonder, where did my baby go?
Don't rush the precious moments...these years are short....slow down, pause, take the time to really look at your children...hold them, cuddle them, read to them, enjoy them. Believe me, in a few years, it will be hard to remember what they looked liked, sleeping in your arms.
We live in an age of speed and stress and hurry and busy-ness. We compare notes about how full our daytimers are...how many things we can get done in a day...and we look for short cuts, for ways to 'find' more time.
God gave us 24 hours in a day. That's all. What we get done in that time is what we get done...we can't beg, borrow or steal any more minutes. But we can lose them. We can lose the precious moments. And what a shame that would be.
Maybe it's because I'm facing 40 in a few more months, maybe it's because I waited and hoped for children for longer than most of the other moms I meet, but I am a little saddened by the desire to rush through this time in the trenches.
Yes, young children are a lot of work. They wear us down and wear us out and some days it seems like it will never end, we will never get 'our lives' back, never again have 'me' time.
In particular I hear younger moms tiring of breastfeeding and the late night trips to the nursery. I'm still doing that myself and trust me, it's a lot harder at 40 than at 25 or 30. But I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm in no hurry for it to end....
This time, these few precious years, will not come again, we will not pass this way again. Nor will our children.
The other night, about 3 a.m., after nursing my little one, I just held her, sleeping in my arms, trying to memorize those soft cheeks and fragile eyelids. I watched her gentle breathing and bent my head to smell that sweet smell only babies have. And I smiled with joy and wonder and the miracle of the little life in my arms...a life that all too soon will not need this nightly nourishment from me, will not need me to change and feed and clothe her, will not need the reassurance of my arms to drift off to sleep.
As I headed back to bed, I paused to look in on my son, almost 5 now and becoming more independent each day. I hear choruses of "I can do it myself" and "Don't worry mommy, I'm a big boy now, I don't need help." And I strain my memory to remember those late nights in the nursery when all he wanted was the comfort of my breast and my arms. I love the little man he has become, but some days I wonder, where did my baby go?
Don't rush the precious moments...these years are short....slow down, pause, take the time to really look at your children...hold them, cuddle them, read to them, enjoy them. Believe me, in a few years, it will be hard to remember what they looked liked, sleeping in your arms.
We live in an age of speed and stress and hurry and busy-ness. We compare notes about how full our daytimers are...how many things we can get done in a day...and we look for short cuts, for ways to 'find' more time.
God gave us 24 hours in a day. That's all. What we get done in that time is what we get done...we can't beg, borrow or steal any more minutes. But we can lose them. We can lose the precious moments. And what a shame that would be.
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