It was Sunday morning. My husband had a rare church meeting that would last a couple hours. Luckily the kids cooperated fairly well, and we got all the girls bathed and dressed fairly quickly. My fabulous husband made breakfast, and while it cooked he got himself ready. We ate and enjoyed a hot breakfast. Once breakfast was over, I started going through the piles of papers that had started to be sorted but were never finished. My husband left, and I sent the boys off to get ready. I kept cleaning. Soon breakfast was cleaned up, the counters wiped, dishes away, floor swept and my oldest daughter was coloring a picture at the counter.
I went to check on the boys (to see if showers were actually happening), and to find out where the two year old had wandered off to (aka to make sure she wasn’t causing trouble). I was pleasantly surprised to find my oldest son helping his younger brother in getting the shower started. The younger kids were all playing happily. It was a miracle really, but I wasn’t complaining.
These cute pink shoes reminded me how grown up she’d become. That soon, those shoes would be high heels taller than mine (I’m so much more of a flats girl), and that I’d have multiple pairs all around from all 3 of my girls before I knew it.
As I finished up a few things, I got to thinking about how my youngest son was starting preschool this week. My eyes filled. They have for over a year when I would think about this. He’s my forth child! Why would I cry about preschool now?!? It’s always been a fun milestone I love to celebrate.
My sweet little boy is finally going off to preschool (with one of the BEST teachers ever) and my heart is so tender with my baby boy, my miracle, not being around all the time I’m a bit worried about how he’ll do, and if he’ll be okay.
I think mostly though … these three littles (as I like to call them) that are at the end of my family are only 2.5 years apart. They are all right in a row in school years. So, as Jack starts kindergarten in a year, my cute little girl will start preschool. Then Jack will start first grade, then Hannah will go to kindergarten and my little baby will start preschool. It’s like all the time I’ve spent looking forward to having my kids gone at school, and being able to clean my house and sit on my couch and admire it for more than 5 minutes (or more than 1 hour!), makes my mother heart hurt a little.
I have finally become one of those mothers. I’ve finally seen the light. My oldest is in FORTH grade. That’s so crazy to me! My baby will be in kindergarten before I know it, and it’s making me sad. When she does go to kindergarten, my oldest, who was once my baby too, will go into middle school.
Time goes so quickly, and I’ve finally realized that I have to soak up these moments. These HARD moments. These moments when my kids are little and so precious.
Being a mom is incredibly hard. It’s hard physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, every day. It’s so hard to be a mom. But I think we need to slow down more often. Instead of seeing shoes out of place, look at how big they’ve gotten – or how tiny and sweet they still are. Be slow to anger and quick to love. When you’re kids leave for school, genuinely send them with a hug and I love you, instead of rushed one. When your kids ask for your help, or to come to them, don’t make them wait. Make whatever you’re doing wait. Let them know you love them, and that they are the most important thing. Because they are!