Wednesday, March 9, 2016

long days, short years

I've been looking around at our life lately and thinking how much we're "in it." In the years that I've seen so many mom's reminisce about with their eyes when I bring my three young kids around. The longing smile, the sad yet happy eyes, and the back pats that come so easily once you're removed from it. I'm excited to be a part of that club, but not yet. Oh  heavens, not yet. Right now I think about not having a newborn around ever again and I want to cry (and it's slightly the hormones talking) but like, babies! I listened to an oral essay a few years back about a woman on the brink of "being done" and I still get emotional thinking about her situation. Partially because we're not done (at least, that's our plan) and partially because I know how long and tiring it is to have these kids. And Matt knows too, but not as much as being the mother. The lead parent. The in-the-trenches-every-day parent who sometimes spends 14 hours awake with multiple small people right next to me.  Long, exhausting days that end up being the quickest years since every day it seems the boys are changing and looking older. The fact that we have three children seems almost impossible since we just barely found out we were pregnant with our first... so yeah. Quick. 

Just yesterday I spent 30 minutes sobbing because I was so tired and they were rowdy and not napping and I just didn't want to be around them, to then turn around a few hours later and feel the very real urge to wake them up from sleeping to cuddle with every single one of them in my bed (I settled for staring at a sleeping Moses and smelling his wonderful milky breath.) Parenthood is SO WEIRD. I want time for myself and I have very real goals and personal stuff that sometimes makes me feel frustrated, but I'm really trying my best to lean in and relish being "in it" for my kids, because all too soon I'll be patting the back of someone else and reminiscing because such is the wonderful heartbreak of life. Oh, and because I adore them, even when I don't like them. The beautiful punks.

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