“Mommy, I want a snack!”
“Let’s read this book, Mommy!”
“MAMAMAMAMA!”
“Sit wiff me, Mommy!”
“MAMAMAMAMA!”
If you spend more than a few minutes at my house, you are bound to hear at least one of the above exclamations. These words are the soundtrack to my life right now. In my selfish moments, it is easy to think of these things as an inconvenience. Can’t I just have a minute to myself? How did my only “me time” become a hasty 5-minute shower? What about the ever so buzzy “self-care” with which our society is so obsessed?
While feeling sorry for myself and mindlessly scrolling through Instagram one evening, I saw this quote on one of my favorite sites, Scary Mommy:
“Someday when the kids are grown, we’ll have the clean house, open schedule, and five minutes of peace we long for in this season. And I think it might just break our hearts.”
Friends, this spoke straight to my soul. It is SO accurate it hurts.
Though I can lose my patience at times, being a mom is truly a privilege. If I’m being honest with myself, it’s one I don’t always feel as though I deserve. Certain aspects of motherhood simply do not come naturally to me. I like alone time. I like quiet. I like order. As we all know, kids are both loud and messy. It can be a challenge for me to exist in a state of what feels like perpetual chaos.
But nothing compares to the all-encompassing love I feel for my children. It is an honor to be theirs.
To be the one they not only want but need.
To be the one who can solve their problems.
To be the one who can soothe their cries.
To be the one who can rock them to sleep.
It won’t always be this way. One day I will have that alone time I so desperately crave. But, as the saying goes, I won’t want it then. Instead, I’ll long for these days, the ones where I often feel frazzled and weary. Even though these days are frantic, they are also full of pure magic. I know, without a doubt, that I am currently living some of the best days of my life.
Isn’t that motherhood, though? Moments where your heart can both break and soar? It happens all the time.
My heart breaks when I realize my daughter no longer needs me quite as much as she used to.
But it soars when I see her approach a child at the park and sweetly ask, “Wanna play wiff me?”
My heart breaks when I realize my son no longer falls asleep tightly pressed upon my chest.
But it soars when I see how proud he is taking his first unsure steps.
And on and on it goes. If you need me, I’ll be relishing in all the cuddles, the little hands clasping mine, the never-ending juice requests, the enthusiastic bath time splashes, and the dramatic readings of Barbie’s Little Lost Dolphin. Because they will be gone before I know it. I wouldn’t wish these days away for all the peace and quiet in the world.
