When you're a mom, at home, with little kids, time passes unnoticed. You are so focused on the here and now, the crayon-up-the-nose, the adorable laugh, the poke-in-the-eye, the mysterious liquid that your toddler is drinking, the conversations about nothing and everything. You are there, because you have to be. And of course you want to be. It's wonderful.
But then when something big happens, like, say, your oldest starts kindergarten, you become aware of the passage of time. And it hurts! How did two days become five years, so suddenly? How did this infant that needed you for everything suddenly know how to put on his backpack and zip up his jacket and kiss his sister goodbye?
You watch his vulnerable little shoulders under the weight of his R2D2 backpack and you think, "How?! He was just a baby. Just yesterday."
When you glance at the clock and you realize that right now he's probably sitting down eating lunch and you get all panicky, "Does he have friends to talk to while he eats? Does he miss me?" and you realize that life truly is the fine art of holding on and letting go.
The bitterest sweet of my life has been watching my children grow up.
I miss him, I do. But the truth is, the days go on. I play "riding the bus" with KJ and then I feed Will for the millionth time. I put them down for naps and pay bills and run a brush through my hair and then I look at the clock and oh! is that the bus I hear? And soon it's bedtime and I'm helping little legs into pajama pants and confiscating the toothpaste from Kjel, who thinks it's candy.
And then tomorrow begins again and I have to swallow back that sob that I haven't let escape yet, because in truth, I don't think it's going anywhere. Not for a long time.
When you're a mom, at home, with little kids, time passes unnoticed.
When you're a mom, you can't help but feel a little betrayed by the hands of the clock. They move forward even when you're not quite ready to. Will I ever be ready to?