Five years used to feel like a really long time. I remember when Claire was born, in those first sleepless months a friend that was a few years ahead of me told me the days are long but the years are short. I thought she was kidding. The days were long. The nights were excruciating. I felt like life was passing me by one minute at a time. Years are short? I laughed. At this rate I thought the years would never come.
Next month my oldest turns 3. Only two more years at home. I can’t believe three whole years have almost passed. On mondays like today I think how did it happen? When did she get so big, how are we already talking about God, the condition of her heart, and the real painful why’s of life? How did we get to the age where she stood at the top of the slide and yelled, “mom, look i’m gonna kill myself,” only for me to realize I can’t mutter sayings anymore that I don’t want her to repeat (try explaining that one to a playground full of moms).
The years are indeed short my friend. I think this is why God refers to our life as vapor… make it count because it vanishes before we know it. The young years are so incredibly hard and yet so incredibly short. So short that before you know it three of them have passed. I have read that most of a critical years of a child’s life happen before age five. This includes the first six months which my friend and I like to call the “pet rock” phase because while they are adorable to look at…. they don’t do much. Five short years. When I first became a mom I thought it would be like a sprint… sprint to them walking… small victory. Sprint to them talking… oh crap don’t say that.. small victory and lots of fails. Sprint to them using the toilet instead of their pants… well we will get there. The truth is motherhood is a marathon and I don’t really know what the finish line is. Motherhood is marathon that requires you to wake up everyday and beg God for enough strength to make it through just this lap with all the huge unknowns still lying ahead. Will we have a good day filled with laughter that makes you think, I can handle three kids, or will we have a day riddled with tears from both mom and child that requires mass amounts of chocolates and questions of just how screwed up my kids will be? Motherhood is a marathon, so settle into your pace because the days are long but the years are so short. So short in fact that just when you think you have it down someone changes the race entirely.
Lately I have had to make myself slow down, i’ve been sprinting towards a finish line that doesn’t exist. We have a almost three year old and a fifteen month old (If you follow me on instagram you could probably draw them in your sleep because I have what you like to call a “baby picture problem”… leave me alone they are flipping adorable) and I really want to finish writing a second book but most days its all I can do to collapse into bed and read my latest parenting book to ensure my child doesn’t end up on MTV (just kidding there’s no book for that). This is my gig. I chose it. I chose home not work. I chose to put my dreams on hold until I’m ready to get help. I get to do lots of things I love but pouring my life onto pages isn’t in the cards right now. So the other day I sat down to write and I wrote this instead….
The pages on my computer may be blank but my children’s stories will be well written.
Pace changed. Finish line moved. I’m ready for another lap.
