Last night I couldn’t sleep. I woke up and stared at my youngest and my middle sleeping so soundly. I remembered the other night I was telling my mother in law that Brody was either gonna be a leader of the nation or a gang in prison. We laughed and secretly prayed it wasn’t the latter. I thought about that statement and how before I blinked he would be grown. An anger welled up inside me, why? Why does time have to go so fast? And who’s fault is it. God’s? Mine? Theirs? I was so mad that when I woke up they’d all be older, and there was nothing I could do about it. I’m not one who is ok with not having control. I have no say, or input on how slow or fast the process goes and it kills me.
I mean why can’t the days be short and the years be long? Why can’t they stay little for longer and the days that feel like they’ll never end be shorter? Idk, there’s a lesson in there I’m sure. I’m sure when I’m old and my boys are grown I’ll still never know. But for now I’m trying to figure out how to hold them longer, love them harder and try my hardest to keep them small forever. It’s not a secret, every mom I’ve ever known or even strangers will tell me “soak it up”. So it’s not anything a momma tries to keep, they want you to know it happens fast, they want you to soak up that fresh bath smell, that sweaty boy smell with a touch of fresh cut grass, those terrible smelly feet. They want you to laugh at all the farts, and fart jokes. Roll your eyes at the clothes on the floor and the pee all over the toilet. Yell a little less, hold your tongue a lot more. And the thing I’m most guilty of looking at my stupid phone.
So until I figure out how to keep my boys this small and innocent I’m gonna laugh more, watch them more and pray to God time could just slow down a little.