Time goes by fast.
Ah. The truest quote out there. When you are a kid, you think time goes on forever. The clock ticks slower when you are at school. Christmas day feels like its light years away. Time is not your highest commodity when you are a child.
As we get older, time seems to stand still for different reasons. The high school senior feels like he will never be free of high school. The young single sees marriage as a far off dream. Parents of babies cannot see past the sleepless nights, let alone, being able to do anything independently of a little person shadow.
Time. Our most valuable possession.
When I started having babies, the older wiser folk all told me to enjoy those moments because they go by in a flash. In the back of my mind, I knew they were right. The reality in front of me, however, spoke a different story.
After almost three years, a second baby came. One year later, the third. There I sat hair a mess, lack of sleep and shower, caring for three boys under four. My goal was for everyone to survive the day and not always relishing in the fleeting moments. I couldn't see past the diaper changes and feedings to realize time was in warp speed.
I have this awesome app that sends me pictures from the past daily. The app pulls from my social media accounts reminding me of events and nuances from past years on this date. Today, my app was filled with pictures of precious little baby faces. I got a little choked up seeing those chubby little men that used to keep me up all hours of the night.
I am not too far ahead of those years. I still have little ones that have many needs. However, the everyday baby years are a distant memory. The baby giggles and crazy messes are a thing of the past. Developmental changes look much different today than the celebrations of first teeth, first steps, and first words. Our life looks much different today than even two years ago and two years ago feels like just two minutes ago.
They told me so.
The wise counsel knew how fast time goes. They told me to relish in the chaos because one day it would be gone. And it is. I can honestly say that I tried my very best to breath in every single moment of pandemonium. I didn't want to forget how my middle would crawl out of his crib into his little brother's crib and they'd giggle like crazy. I took in all the times the oldest would lay next to one of his little brothers and just stare. It was like he was in awe of this precious gift he was given. He was created to be a big brother. I let the moments when my youngest wanted to be on me at all times soak in because I knew there'd be a day in the not-so-distant-future where he'd be too big for me to hold. Even though I tried my best to love the moments where I had to carry a baby on each hip up the stares feeling guilty that the third kiddo was being left out, I still failed to realize how fast and how fleeting those times would be.
I have a plethora of moments, of memories, boxed up in my mind. It all seems like it happened yesterday yet, sometimes I confuse my oldest son's shoes for his father's now. I knew time would fly because they all told me so. Yet, it was so hard to see past the disorder, the sleep-deprivation, the constant neediness, the unending list of to-dos. The tunnel of babyhood seemed dark and eternal; relentless.
And then one day I woke up and all the kids were at school. While the needs were still there, they had shifted drastically. I could go to the bathroom uninterrupted. Breakables could come out and stay out. I could sit on the side of the pool instead of getting in it. The three little babies that needed me every second of every day were all of a sudden independent. I knew this day would come but wow, did it ever come quick.
They told me so.
The moment I realized the "I told you so" folk were right was when my husband and I sat together on the side of the pool. My youngest was four and all three boys could swim. We didn't even realize what we were doing right away until one of us pointed it out. That moment changed everything for me. I knew then that they were right. Time goes by in a flash. Breath in EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT.
My boys will always be my babies even when they are older and have families of their own. My husband likes to remind me that my boys will always need me. It will just look different as the years progress.
Now, when my youngest is sitting on the couch his two little fingers in his mouth, I stop what I am doing and sit next time him. I look at his little nose and listen to the noise he makes when he is sucking on those fingers. He began that habit when he was two months old. I remember how I relieved I was when he found those fingers to pacify himself because he was colic and inconsolable.
When my quiet middle guy wants to talk my ear off, I listen. I put my phone down and look into his crystal blue eyes. I listen intently to his cute little boy voice. Most times I don't even know what he's saying. That really doesn't matter. I just want to hear him because one day, his stories will be told to someone else.
When my oldest asks for my time, I give it. He needs that. His love language is quality time. He's going to find it with someone so for now, I want that someone to be me. I play basketball even though I am horrible and listen to him explain video games. As I listen, I see his heart and how big, how wide, and how deep it runs.
I may even overpost on Instagram because I know one day I will long to see the photos of the past jarring those precious memories stirring that sweet feeling way down deep in my soul.
I tell time to be gentle all the time. I plead with time to let me have the moments; to make me aware of the memories in the making. While I do mourn the loss of baby-life, I am loving right now.
I know time is on a mission to zoom past me. I know I need to pay attention and to be present because one day, my house will be empty. I know to savor every moment, even the hard ones, because they told me so and they were right.
Enjoy the moments. Breath it all in. Because one day, it will all be a memory.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
Ah. The truest quote out there. When you are a kid, you think time goes on forever. The clock ticks slower when you are at school. Christmas day feels like its light years away. Time is not your highest commodity when you are a child.
As we get older, time seems to stand still for different reasons. The high school senior feels like he will never be free of high school. The young single sees marriage as a far off dream. Parents of babies cannot see past the sleepless nights, let alone, being able to do anything independently of a little person shadow.
Time. Our most valuable possession.
When I started having babies, the older wiser folk all told me to enjoy those moments because they go by in a flash. In the back of my mind, I knew they were right. The reality in front of me, however, spoke a different story.
After almost three years, a second baby came. One year later, the third. There I sat hair a mess, lack of sleep and shower, caring for three boys under four. My goal was for everyone to survive the day and not always relishing in the fleeting moments. I couldn't see past the diaper changes and feedings to realize time was in warp speed.
I have this awesome app that sends me pictures from the past daily. The app pulls from my social media accounts reminding me of events and nuances from past years on this date. Today, my app was filled with pictures of precious little baby faces. I got a little choked up seeing those chubby little men that used to keep me up all hours of the night.
I am not too far ahead of those years. I still have little ones that have many needs. However, the everyday baby years are a distant memory. The baby giggles and crazy messes are a thing of the past. Developmental changes look much different today than the celebrations of first teeth, first steps, and first words. Our life looks much different today than even two years ago and two years ago feels like just two minutes ago.
They told me so.
The wise counsel knew how fast time goes. They told me to relish in the chaos because one day it would be gone. And it is. I can honestly say that I tried my very best to breath in every single moment of pandemonium. I didn't want to forget how my middle would crawl out of his crib into his little brother's crib and they'd giggle like crazy. I took in all the times the oldest would lay next to one of his little brothers and just stare. It was like he was in awe of this precious gift he was given. He was created to be a big brother. I let the moments when my youngest wanted to be on me at all times soak in because I knew there'd be a day in the not-so-distant-future where he'd be too big for me to hold. Even though I tried my best to love the moments where I had to carry a baby on each hip up the stares feeling guilty that the third kiddo was being left out, I still failed to realize how fast and how fleeting those times would be.
I have a plethora of moments, of memories, boxed up in my mind. It all seems like it happened yesterday yet, sometimes I confuse my oldest son's shoes for his father's now. I knew time would fly because they all told me so. Yet, it was so hard to see past the disorder, the sleep-deprivation, the constant neediness, the unending list of to-dos. The tunnel of babyhood seemed dark and eternal; relentless.
And then one day I woke up and all the kids were at school. While the needs were still there, they had shifted drastically. I could go to the bathroom uninterrupted. Breakables could come out and stay out. I could sit on the side of the pool instead of getting in it. The three little babies that needed me every second of every day were all of a sudden independent. I knew this day would come but wow, did it ever come quick.
They told me so.
The moment I realized the "I told you so" folk were right was when my husband and I sat together on the side of the pool. My youngest was four and all three boys could swim. We didn't even realize what we were doing right away until one of us pointed it out. That moment changed everything for me. I knew then that they were right. Time goes by in a flash. Breath in EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT.
My boys will always be my babies even when they are older and have families of their own. My husband likes to remind me that my boys will always need me. It will just look different as the years progress.
Now, when my youngest is sitting on the couch his two little fingers in his mouth, I stop what I am doing and sit next time him. I look at his little nose and listen to the noise he makes when he is sucking on those fingers. He began that habit when he was two months old. I remember how I relieved I was when he found those fingers to pacify himself because he was colic and inconsolable.
When my quiet middle guy wants to talk my ear off, I listen. I put my phone down and look into his crystal blue eyes. I listen intently to his cute little boy voice. Most times I don't even know what he's saying. That really doesn't matter. I just want to hear him because one day, his stories will be told to someone else.
When my oldest asks for my time, I give it. He needs that. His love language is quality time. He's going to find it with someone so for now, I want that someone to be me. I play basketball even though I am horrible and listen to him explain video games. As I listen, I see his heart and how big, how wide, and how deep it runs.
I may even overpost on Instagram because I know one day I will long to see the photos of the past jarring those precious memories stirring that sweet feeling way down deep in my soul.
I tell time to be gentle all the time. I plead with time to let me have the moments; to make me aware of the memories in the making. While I do mourn the loss of baby-life, I am loving right now.
I know time is on a mission to zoom past me. I know I need to pay attention and to be present because one day, my house will be empty. I know to savor every moment, even the hard ones, because they told me so and they were right.
Enjoy the moments. Breath it all in. Because one day, it will all be a memory.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
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