I can sense it, the shift, the thresh hold were my little ones are about to become more independent. The phase were I am still needed, but at an arms length because they will soon need mentoring and cheering on and not as much training. My twins have turned into preschoolers and my Maddie girl has turned into a big elementary school kid. When did it happen?
Not so long ago, four years to be precise I was wondering if I would ever sleep again and I was sure hot food and showers were a thing of the past. There was a time I would cry at the mere thought of having to have another sleepless night. I was going to die, I just knew it. At one point I wasn’t sure I wanted this mother thing I had signed up for. My exhausted brain could barely think, much less function, but somehow, here we are on the thresh hold of entering another year of preschool. The alphabet is trying to come out in sequence from their mouths, letters are being attempted by little shaky hands, and dreams of the solar system are coming from their mouths. Addition and subtraction are becoming “too easy, mommy” and Maddie is reading signs and asking what they mean. Such questions as to why someone would need to sell a cherry picker and why would someone want to buy one.
I am still a bit in the world of the little’s. I still need to help wipe bottoms, wash hair, and character train (which is really more praying for wisdom from the Holy Spirit than anything else). I still get to wipe noses and brush hair, I still tuck them in tight and read bedtime stories. They are still little enough for me to carry and little enough to snuggle them tight. But, my mommy heart knows that like sand slipping through my fingers, so too, is time slipping through my fingers. It makes me hug them a little tighter, it helps me be a little more patient.
I am so thankful for the perspective God has given me for my little’s, because I truly do want to cherish this time. I don’t simply want to just survive it and call it good. I want to say I ran the race well, because while sometimes the “phases” and “legs” of the race get long, soon, all too soon, I will reach the finish line. Once I get to the finish line all I can do is be a spectator, pray, hold them in through their failures and tears, and cheer them on in their successes.
But for now I am going to attempt to wipe their noses a little more gently, hug them a little tighter, read one or two more stories, and attempt to slow down time.