Someday I'll Look Back On All of This

Yesterday I read two articles that were posted on Facebook by other moms.  The first was 14 Reasons Why Being A Stay At Home Person Sucks.  The second was Don't Carpe Diem.  Both articles hit close to home because it's how I've been feeling for a while.  Both touch on that nagging feeling, and the more blatant statements that people make, that I should be enjoying my children more and how someday I will miss this time with them.

I often wonder what I am doing wrong, why I can't be more patient and what does it mean if all I've ever wanted to do is be a stay at home mom and this is really all it is?  Why do I let them get to me and why can't I be more happy?  But nobody has to tell me that raising kids is hard, very hard, because I'm in the thick of it.  I love my kids very much but you can't convince me it's all rainbows and puppy dogs.

There are so many things about my kids that I won't miss, that it overshadows the things that I will.  Of course, just like the horrors of pregnancy and child birth, I will forget a lot of the bad things and only choose to remember the good.  I will not think about Sarah's incessant whining, Andy's non-stop antagonizing, or Amanda's need to be carried all the time regardless of how sore my hips are.  I will choose not to remember the crying, the throwing of toys or the way they sometimes talk to me in the most amazingly disrespectful voice.

Instead I will remember Amanda crawling into my lap when I go to lunch with my friends and sitting there quietly, just happy to be with her mommy.  And how she desperately wants to sleep with us and on the rare occasions we let her she curls up next to me and her warm little body breathes softly in my ear.  How when I make her hold my hand while we're crossing the street she just holds one finger instead of my entire hand and when going to bed she gives me the biggest bear hug and smack on the lips right before she lies down for the night.

I will remember Sarah's infectious laugh and how she sings when ever she's in the bathroom.  How she is so sweet and gentle and inclusive with her little sister and pretty much any child that is smaller than her.  How she tries so hard to be big and responsible even though she wants to be babied.

I will remember how Andy at age nine (well, almost), still comes to me and makes me give him a hug.  How he still loves for me to tuck him and kiss him good night.  How all the word and number games we played with him as a kid have only made him want to play more as he gets older and how he is as inquisitive, or more, than his father in the way he asks so many questions, never stopping to let you give the answer.

So, there will be a day when I look back and think how quickly they've grown and how much I miss it.  I won't, however, cherish or love every moment.  Instead I will set aside the memories that I like best and those are the ones that I will wish I could get back.