By guest blogger & Smarty Mom, Stephanie Blanton
So much in life cannot be taught. We must experience it in order to really learn. When you first become a parent, people warn you, “They grow up so fast. Enjoy it.” You smile and nod. But it is not until you experience parenthood that you come to appreciate the truth in those words. The days are long but the years are short, they say. Yes, there seems to be countless days when the workload is endless, and you just can’t see the forest for the trees. You go through the motions with this misguided concept that your children will always be there in the midst of your home and all its chaos.
So we march through our routines daily, often with some exhaustion and frustration. Like when bed time comes. You think you have your babies down for the night. There is laundry to be folded and a dishwasher to empty. Perhaps you might even have 30 minutes for yourself. But then…
“Mommy!”
“Yes?”
“I need some water”.
“Ok. Here you go. Goodnight.”
…
“Mommy!”
“Yeeessss?”
“You forgot to say snug as a bug in a rug”
“No I didn’t. (sigh.) Okay. We’ll do it again…snnnnug as a bug…in a rug.”
…
“Mooommmmmy!!”
“YESSSSSSSSSSS?!”
“I just wanted to say that I love you…and you have pretty hair.”
Melt.
It is in those moments that the tears come to your eyes and you pray to God that it will never end. Even the work. Even the frustration. Yet somewhere in the back of your mind, you are smart enough to know it all will. All those people who warned you — they are right. It is a passing through. The day will come all too soon when there is no more snug as a bug in a rug. When he no longer thinks his mommy has the prettiest hair he’s ever seen.
It is our nature as humans, and particularly as Americans of the 21st Century, to want to speed through life. It seems the objective of our society is to accelerate the pace of everything in our paths. But in doing so, we’re losing some of the meaning. Too often I am guilty of rushing through the motions, and in the process, losing sight of the fleeting preciousness in my midst.
So I try to remember the lessons in the clarity I glimpse along the way. In the unusual stillness of those nights, standing in front of the closed bedroom door with the tears in my eyes. These are the days of our lives. Don’t assume it will always be this way, and savor the preciousness.
4 comments
I love this post, and I could not agree more. I keep the following excerpt from an Anna Quindlen article posted on the wall of my cube at work, lest I forget how fast it all goes by:
“But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.
The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That’s what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.”
What a beautiful article! Soooo true and sweet. My son literally makes me stop and smell the flowers. We have so many lessons to learn from our little “experts.” thank you for writing this.
Steph, you are amazing. I feel the same way but could never express it so beautifully. I always love reading your work! Love you, V
WOW! You all are melting my heart today! What an amazing post. Thank you for the reminder. I sat down today and did play-doh with my 3yr old son. We sat in a quiet house, made Gary the Snail from Sponge Bob and other interesting pieces…anyway, it was time well spent and I loved every minute.