Today was a wonderful day. My friend Michelle generously offered to let Ryn and Elle come play with her and Mary so I could have a day of ease at home alone with Eden. As I looked around at all the things I could spend the few precious hours on, I thought about how much I could do every day if I didn't have these little people who needed my attention and love every single second. I got to indulge in reading the Ensign, taking an unhurried shower and skipping lunch because I didn't have to make it for anyone! It was a much needed and appreciated break, but I was excited to pick up the girls by the time the afternoon came. You see, there is nothing I can "get done" without them that matters as much as what I feel and do and become when I'm with them.
When I got to Michelle's she commented on how much work it really is to have little ones who need that constant attention. There's always something they need, or they're getting into, or mess they've made, etc. I laughed and agreed and put the girls in the car to go pick up Kevin from work. I was sitting at a stop light reflecting on these things when I heard a most unwelcome sound from the back--Elle had thrown up all over herself and her car seat. I just laughed as we cleaned it up, thinking, "Yep, there's always something...." :)
And then, as we were driving home together, listening to the complete array of toddler sounds (whines, screams, laughter, singing, and adorable phrases in tiny voices), Kevin turned the radio to a country station (sorry, Joy :) ) for some distraction music everyone could dance to. The song was one I hadn't heard, but could identify with immediately, especially today. A father was singing about the hard moments of parenthood--the sleepless nights with a newborn, the crying and clinging toddler who won't let you leave them at school--and how you take hope in the knowledge that it won't be like this forever. But then the father remembers, as I did today, that "it won't be like this forever" means that every stage will be over all too quickly, and therefore should be cherished instead of just endured or wished away. Kevin and I just looked at each other and smiled through the tears we both had in our eyes.
So, to Michelle or anyone else who might feel pity for the amount of work I have to do every day, please don't. Because as much as Kevin and I wish that it could, it won't be like this forever.
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5 comments:
I love your sweet girls-- and it's not so much pity as a reawakened awareness and a desire to help!
Sorry to misrepresent you, Michelle--I knew pity wasn't the right word as I was typing it, but my non-writer brain couldn't think of how to express it. So thanks for clarifying :)
My parents reply to my email, so I've decided to start saving their comments here so we have them all together when we eventually print out this 'online journal'.
So true. Thank you for sharing this.
But more importantly, thank you for taking care of the "always something" with such love and diligence. May you always enjoy and learn from the journey.
We love you and are so proud of you.
Dad/PS
So true! Just a few days ago Teairsa was having a really rough day and I was feeling so overwhelmed then I heard the 'you're going to miss this' country song and I realized even though it seems like all she is doing is crying and being sad I'm going to miss it when ALL the more she grows and busier things get but for now I can just hold her and cuddle with her and keep trying to make her feel better.
I hope Elle feels better and that Ryn is no longer sick, and hopefully it doesn't spread to anyone else.
We love you and can't wait to see in April!
Love you guys! Keep on truckin'!
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