Every day my children are getting a little bigger.
Every morning when we wake up they are a little older and a little wiser and a little bit closer to not being my (little) babies anymore.
And while watching them grow is amazing – and truly the greatest thing I have ever done – nothing will remind you just how fast time really is whizzing by as having children does. Sometimes, when I look at my six-year-old girl, I feel almost breathless that she is growing up so fast, when, to me, it feels like only moments ago since she only little, my baby.
The days with young children can be long (oh, how we know!), but the years are so, so short. It is all so easy to forget to stop and just BE when you are so busy with the school run and the work commute and the dinner rush and the toddler tantrums and the homework helping. When work and family and relationships and the daily grind is pulling you in different directions all day every day, and when you are chasing your tail from morning till night.
We are all here. But much as all the logistics and practicalities have to be done, don't forget to make time for the really important things too. The ones you won't get back if you always push them to the back of the line. The ones you'll regret not doing when time has slipped through your fingers.
This poem by Diane Loomans is stuck to my fridge at home, and as much as life is busy and there are always things to be done, I try to read these words every day and remind myself of what it is that I really need to make time for.
“If I had my child to raise all over again,
I’d finger paint more, and point the finger less.
I’d do less correcting, and more connecting.
I’d take my eyes off my watch, and watch with my eyes.
I would care to know less, and know to care more.
I’d take more hikes and fly more kites.
I’d stop playing serious, and seriously play.
I’d run through more fields, and gaze at more stars.
I’d do more hugging, and less tugging.
I would be firm less often, and affirm much more.
I’d build self esteem first, and the house later.
I’d teach less about the love of power, and more about the power of love.
It might seem a little random, but these words always bring me back – even on days when the parenting has been relentless. When I have broken up arguments and mopped up spills and tidied 4000 Lego blocks and wiped noses and done seven loads of laundry and longed for bedtime.
Even on those days, when I walk past my fridge and catch sight of these words, they still make me stop. And look around. And remember to be grateful for these days too. To remember how quickly these days are passing me by. And how much I will miss them in years to come.
So breathe it all in, mamas.
There will come a day when you miss that yogurt-covered table and those Lego hidden in the carpet and all that constant chatter. These are the days you will some day fondly remember as the best in your life, so remember to stop ever now and again and enjoy them while they are here.
