I’ve heard it said so many times that the days are long but the years are short. Sometimes I find that encouraging. Other times I kind of want to punch whoever said it.
My children have emptied a cabinet and are taking turns shutting each other in it. It isn’t a good game until it ends with tears.
Bang, Bang, Bang! The door slams repeatedly and I try to discern if the screams are those of fun or pain. The days are very long sometimes. I can’t think as far ahead as years most of the time. Sometimes that makes me more dissatisfied. Why can’t my five year old do more for herself? Why do she and my two year old scream more than talk?
But if I try to just focus on the day. Sometimes the goal is just to survive and still love each other at the end of the day. Others to treasure the moments. To hug a little longer, hold a littler closer, even if only for a few seconds.
When his hair still smells like a babies. When she crawls into be next to me for a morning snuggle. When they have quiet moments playing happily together. Instead of working I stop and watch. They beg me to join them and I try not to let the long day ahead supplant the moment. These are the days I will remember. The memories of the anger, the mess, the frustration and the noise will fade I’m sure. I already know that it goes by too fast. Their childhood seems to slip through my fingers like sand while I polish the hour glass.
I don’t need to treasure each moment. That’s a platitude easily spoken by someone whose already escaped from the trenches. The higher view gives a unique perspective, and a blessedly faulty memory. I just need to make sure I stop long enough to experience the best of this. Zero in on the things I want to remember and take those extra moments to make a memory.
I remember a scene from the original Parent Trap with Haley Mills. She was sniffing her grandfather’s jacket and he asked what she was doing. “I’m making a memory,” she said. Yes, that’s what I’m doing.
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