It Won’t Be Like This For Long

“Someday you are going to miss them running around and being this little!”

At the risk of sounding like I complain all the time (although I know I do a lot — I am working on it)… My husband and I comfort each other with that phrase any time the kids are so demanding that we feel our hair frazzling to a dull grey (more recently, during cold-and-cough season, when both my kids required medicine given via nebulizer — basically a child’s version of an inhaler).

"Quack Quack Medicine"

So… 8 times a day I held a sometimes-complacent, often not, child on my lap and administered the prescribed innoculation through the freshly sterilized-between-each-breathing-treatment…. yeah I can’t finish that thought anymore.

"Dinosaur Medicine"

At least the meds worked! But with no time to do any of my normal routine and also no visitors/extra trips out, well — you get the idea.  Some folks can give me a HOLLA I’m sure.  It gets old real fast, right?

So… “It won’t be like this forever.  This too shall pass.”   It helped a lot.  It became our mantra.  We said it the most often when *I* got sick on top of it.

But, I can’t use that phrase anymore now, because of a stupid country song… made me cry my eyes out today.  GRILLED CHEESUS.

Please tell me I’m not the only one.  SIGH.

I was actually holding my 2-yr-old right when it played, after an afternoon of splashing in really cold water and “help” with raking leaves, and herding our family’s new rooster (yeah, I’ll blog about him later) away from the fire.

My awesome child was tuckered out and had just sweetly fussed himself to sleep on my lap.  So the timing… was… hateful.  I did not need that hurt in my heart today!  THANKS A LOT, DARIUS RUCKER.


Thanks for reading, Friends.

2 thoughts on “It Won’t Be Like This For Long

  1. Dottie, the day does come when you miss having your children at home. The house is too quiet so you play the radio for noise. And you do miss those days of life. BUT, I can honestly say that I don’t miss the days of being frazzled. You just wish for a breather, for a moment of silence, a moment of being alone for 15 minutes to feel like the person it took you 20 years to become and now those days are no more. Somewhere between then and now, I blossomed into “mom” and it fits so well that I cannot think of myself as the young teen or young lady who eventually moved out on her own to a different town. The days you speak of are now a blur for me and barely remembered because peace has settled here where chaos of raising children no longer reigns. Now I look back on those years with fond memories. This is long, I know. A poem that helped me sometimes when I felt frazzled:
    Cleaning and scrubbing can wait til tomorrow…for babies grow up we’ve learned to our sorrow…so quiet down cobwebs…dust go to sleep…I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep!!
    In the end, after those days of raising babies have passed, and your home is eerily quiet, another special time comes when you are still “mom” but you begin to think of yourself as “gramma”, and rocking those babies begins again….this time with a settled peace because the time is so short to rock them, to love on them until they go home to mom and dad.

    You are doing great things, and doing them well, my sweet friend.
    Her children will rise up and bless her. Prov 31: 28.

    • Freddie, this was such a sweet comment — and so affirming/validating! Thank you! I say the same thing to Scott in terms of the frazzled… I really don’t think I’ll miss that! It is nice to hear it from you! 🙂 Thank you very much.

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