Wednesday, March 8, 2017

The Days I’ll Miss Most

These are the days I will miss most, or so I hear.

I hope not. I hope I love all the upcoming days so much that I barely have time to register how quick this has all flown by.

I hope I am super into whatever activities and hobbies they have when they’re older, and I hope we have great conversations that keep me too busy to look back too far.

Because I don’t know if I can handle missing all this.

I don’t know how I’ll survive waking up in the mornings to people who won’t let me hug them tight. I don’t know how my heart will keep beating when my children get hurt and I can’t pick them up and hold them, or when hurt feelings means more than just a fellow playmate taking their toy without asking.

I don’t see how my heart could possibly be happy when I don’t get to hear things like “You guys-es” or “Her did that!” or “Which Star War do you like better? Dark Gator or Yody?”

Right now I can’t keep up with my own life and it’s made even harder by the constant precious requests for stories and snuggles and will you play cars/superheroes/knights/Legos with me? Requests I almost never deny because how could I?!

But someday it won’t be like this. I’ll have to endure eye-rolls when I ask them to play with me.
Someday they’ll be too busy for me. They’ll want to play with their friends instead, or they’ll be away at college, or they’ll have families of their own.

When ya comin’ home, son?
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then

I know because that’s me. Because I once asked my parents for stories, because I wanted to “help” Daddy in the garage, because it didn’t even occur to me to want to be at a friend’s house instead of slipping around in backyard mud while my parents watched us and laughed. 

But then I wanted to be at Heidi’s house instead. Then I wanted to be in my room, IM-ing the boy I had a crush on. I had homework and a job. I was in my own apartment. I was living an hour and a half away with my new husband. I was in a travel trailer, exploring the country. I became a mom and found most of my time devoted to my family and my home.

It stands to reason that my own children will grow up to follow the same general pattern. I’m already losing them, a little every day, starting on the day they are born.


I believe it with all my heart when people tell me these are the days I’ll miss most. But I sometimes don’t know how I’ll survive that. I hope they’re wrong.

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