Fall is a time for change… The weather is getting cooler and the nights are lasting longer. Trees are shedding their multicolor leaves in preparation of winter coming.
Mike came home for lunch today, and commented how Tim should’ve done full time preschool this year. Tim had been under my feet all morning, wrestling with the baby, and generally getting in the way. I sighed in agreement as I stepped over his toys strewn about in the kitchen.
But then Mike left, and Oliver went down for his nap. So Tim and I went in the front to play with his birthday present – his very own bouncy house/wrestling ring (best yard sale find EVER). He asked me to ref his fights with his stuffed frog. I counted to three, and raised his arm as I declared him the winner. He grinned up at me in triumph.
Without even realizing, my eyes became misty watching him play in his pajamas, in the middle of the afternoon, without a care in the world.
This is the last fall he will be home with me in the middle of the week, during school hours. This is one of the last moments he occupies the house without any older siblings, because he doesn’t yet have to step on the bus every morning.
The time I’ll get to spend time with him, just the two of us before he leaves me to learn and grow, is fleeting.
Next year, he will spend most of his waking hours at the elementary school down the street. And gone will be the moments he accompanies me grocery shopping midmorning, or asks me build Legos while Oliver naps. Gone will be his sweet chatter filling the silence as I go about my chores.
Momlife (and dadlife!) is hard, but letting them grow is even harder. We raise them and spend every waking second (and even the ones we should all be sleeping) caring for our children, feeding them, guiding them, referring arguments between siblings.
We’re often tired and frustrated, and want nothing more than five minutes where no one touches us.
Our sinks are full, there are crumbs on the counter. The couch cushions are messy, and we can never find the tv remote.
We crave time alone, and an uninterrupted nights’ sleep. We yearn for a dinner at home with our husband where we both get to eat warm food and have an adult conversation.
And then when we finally achieve peace, we realize how much we miss our babies.
My older children mumble words at me in passing, and leave their air buds in while in the car. They don’t often sit down unsolicited and tell me about their day, or ask to go to the grocery store with me unless they want a can of Pringles (trust me, the $.99 is totally worth the time spent together).
The silence is deafening, and we wish we had someone sitting in the seat of the basket at the grocery store.
Enjoy these moments because they don’t last forever. Before we know it, they will be over, and we will be wishing our kids would wrestle with us on the couch, or ask us to play a board game.
So today, build a fort in the living room.
Jump in a pile of leaves.
Eat pancakes for dinner.
Giggle over story time.
Today, enjoy your children ❤️
It is very crazy how quickly time flies. Our youngest will be 25 in December. Seems he was just in kindergarden. I always tell new and young moms how fast it goes. You can still enjoy them as adults, but it isn’t the same. Make every moment count.
And I might add the children should enjoy their time with parents as there will be a time when they won’t be there. My partner has dementia. His kids are in their fifties living three thousand miles away. He talks to them about every two weeks or so. They are missing him now. Soon he won’t remember them.