A Young Mother's Thoughts

 

This year, like every year, I asked Santa for a little more patience. A little more grace. A little more time.

The days are long and messy and mundane. An endless cycle of dishes and laundry. Lessons to plan, meals to make, floors to mop. My patience is often thin. My temper short. I often forget to see the magic through the mayhem and meltdowns. I'm not always the mom I want to be.

And despite those endless hours between dinner and bedtime, all too often it seems like the days slip away. Each night takes them a little farther from babyhood. A little farther from my arms.

So maybe, Santa can buy me a bit of time. Stretch these years of childhood just a little bit longer. Give me some grace when I'm too tired to see the magic.

And if not-- if my kiddos are intent on growing at lightning speed, as they seem to be...

I hope at least they know....

That these have been the best years of my life.

That loving them has been my greatest dream come true.

That once the sun sets and they're settled into their beds, I often lay there, just breathing them in, whispering silent prayers of gratitude for this wild ride of motherhood, and this incredible gift of holding them and guiding them through this world.

I hope my children know that they are my everything-- even when I'm not my softest, kindest, most patient self.

And perhaps it's too much, but I hope that they share this wish to slow down time. To love every messy, chaotic moment of their childhoods. To stay here, just a little longer, in the safety of their mama's love.