You know the days when you think your kiddos are never going to get out of diapers or pull-ups? Or the days when they squeal with delight after going on the potty for the first time?
I know I’m not the first one to tell you, but those days come to an end.
You know the days when you wonder if it’s the last day they take a nap and maybe the last day to shower without interruption? Or the days there are more hugs and wet kisses than you think you may deserve.
Well, those days also come to an end.
You know the days when there is a never-ending amount of questions. Why mama? Why? Why? Or the days when you hear your little one call, “Mama, Mommy, Ma, or Mom,” over and over again. Some days it melts your heart, and other days you don’t want to hear your name ever again?
Yup, those days come to an end as well.
You know those days where you drive around from place to place, picking up at a friend’s house, driving from one activity to the next, stopping to get take out, and after an hour or two of being in the car, you need to stop for a fountain soda to keep you going?
Or the days during the car rides, you hear about the girl drama going on during study hall, the major break up of the year, or the stress of the huge bio test in a few days?
Those days come to an end too. But you know what doesn’t end?
Our kids need us.
Our kids want us near.
Our kids are craving our love.
Our kids desire some boundaries.
This never wavers. And mamas, you know what we get to look forward to?
Late-night talks in the kitchen.
Explosions of joy as college acceptance emails are opened, and tears are combined with a deep exhale after a year of intense work.
An invite to head to Target to pick up the latest toothpaste that is supposed to be amazing.
Listening to their views on faith and opinions about our world.
This is what I hold on to. And as they arrive home and plop down at the island in the kitchen and talk non-stop until the wee hours of the night, I will be reminded of the nights alone, rocking my newborn, silently holding onto one another in the dark and clinging to hope. Or the countless nights, quietly singing a soft tune, as pudgy fingers met my lips and our gaze was only on each other.
