“Mommy, when am I going to be a grown-up?”
So says my almost-4-year-old, still a little girl, insisting she’s a big girl daughter.
I’m impatient for the future, even when I don’t know what it is. I want to rush forward, at a break-neck pace, to the next thing.
No matter what’s going on in life, I have difficulty savoring the moment because I’m straining my eyes to catch a hint of what is over the next hill.
Maybe that’s why God made me near-sighted. In order to type this I needed to find my glasses, clean off the toddler fingerprints, so that I can read the words on the screen.
My vision is constantly blurred by small fingerprints right now. Am I taking the time to appreciate the uniqueness of those fingerprints, the frailty of their size, or am I wiping them away so I can see “clearly?”
Or is this just an excuse to not clean my house?
These are the small things I’m choosing to savor today:
The movements of my unborn child, still nameless, still a mystery. Right now he’s fully mine. I experience his every kick, squirm and wiggle. Josh and the kids share in these moments occasionally, but it’s not the same. This is most likely the last child I will hold inside me. After he’s born in just 7 (or so) short weeks, I will only have memories and those phantom kicks, to remind me of what it’s like to house a life. So, instead of frustration that he’s woken me up (again) at 5 AM, I am choosing to savor…
The non-stop chatter of my daughter frequently has me begging her for just 1 minute of silence. She loves to share her every thought and experience with our family. Her inner monologue has yet to find its way inside. Thoughts, feelings, joys, sorrows; everything is audible and out there for us to join her in. Someday she’ll be a teenager and it might not be so easy to know what is going on inside her. There will come a time when I will beg her for just 1 minute of conversation. So instead of hushing, I am choosing to savor…
I’m still in the stage of my blogging experience where I wonder who’s reading. I don’t have regular readers that I expect to see comments from, I have a handful of people who’ve subscribed; I feel little. Each time I get an alert that someone has left me feedback, encouragement, an “I’m here” message it’s exciting to see what they’ve said. There are people I look up to, blogs I read and think, “It would be cool to be like them.” Today for some reason I went back to their first blog posts. 2 comments, 1 comment, 5 comments – they started out just like me. Not that comments are what matter (who am I kidding, yes they are). When people comment here it lets me know I’ve connected. I feel like what I’m saying is valid and not just floating around void. What’s been interesting has been the verbal feedback I received in the last month; people I had no idea who were reading this encouraged me by their kind words. I have no way of knowing what (if anything) this could lead to, but I am choosing to savor…
Elijah loves his special night. He lights up when he realizes it’s Tuesday and he frequently will plan ahead what he’s going to do: read a book or play guitar with Daddy, talk about his birthday (a favorite topic) or play “the number game” with Mommy. It’s full of endless possibilities for him. Then, once the reading, music, talking or playing is over, it’s time to cuddle down and go to sleep. He snores. He’s huge. Our queen size bed is running out of space for a very pregnant mommy, an all legs and arms almost-Kindergartner and a daddy. Many times daddy ends up on the couch. It’s uncomfortable, it’s inconvenient, but it’s fleeting. Who knows how much longer he’ll want to do this with us? Already my baby-first-born seems way to old. So, I’m choosing to savor…
There’s so much more, so much I could miss by rushing through it: Josh dancing with Cora is his arms at an outdoor concert, Ezra cuddling up next to me with his requisite sippy full of milk, taking all the kids to see Daddy at work for lunch…
Life happens fast enough. I need to forget about being the one who anticipated what was next and learn to embrace what’s happening now.
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