**Taps pen on counter**
- Plan/prepare dinner
- Write out grocery list
- Pay bills
- Organize books
- Plan E’s 2nd Birthday Party (which…. is next month! Cue panic).
- Mop (which hasn’t been done in 45,627 days)
- Walk the dog
- Spend quality time with the husband
- Read to E
- Play with E
- Pluck eyebrows (see above in reference to mopping)
- Work out
Do you ever have a list like mine and think, “How will I ever do all of this?” I wish I could say that was a short list, but the list usually goes on and on. I constantly wonder how I will manage to get everything done and when I will find time to care for my children, home, husband and myself between attempting to sleep and working a full time job. These thoughts plague me everyday.
A few minutes (okay, maybe hours, but who is counting?) into my stress and panic about getting my above list done, my mind flashed back to a nursery gift given to me by a cousin. Amidst the onesies, diapers, and swaddle blankets, was a framed quote that read:
I smiled thinking about that frame and put my pen down and pushed my list aside.
Don’t get me wrong – I am a “Type A” person. Prior to children, I was (and still desperately desire to be) the person who ALWAYS had an immaculate house and could never go to bed with already folded laundry stacked on the dresser (it had to be put away). I also still to this day re-load the dishwasher after someone else loads it. But, I am coming to realize that I am in a unique and utterly short season of life and if I’m not careful I’ll miss out on the sweetness that is this time. Right now, I have a little girl who likes to play with her baby dolls, who wants to read books, and begs to go on walks. If I obsess over laundry, mope over unmopped floors or….blink, she will be grown and I won’t get the dolls, story times and walks back.
So, today, for such a short season, my house is not neat and tidy, but I like to think it is happy. It doesn’t matter that my baseboards are dusty and my toddler doesn’t care if the bed is made. Years from now, I won’t look at a picture of my child and think “I wish I was able to see the vacuum lines in the carpet.” I’m fairly certain I will wish to crawl into that picture and play with my child one more time.
At that stage.
Where she smelled like baby shampoo and fit in my lap just so.
Where I was still the center of her world.
So put down the broom and fold the blankets later. Hold your little one. Smell their head and soak up those tiny little fingers wrapping around yours.
Years from now, you can have an immaculate house, remember everyone’s birthdays, and hopefully, remind a young mom who is so jealous that your windows aren’t covered in tiny hand prints that this is a season, and believe it or not, she will miss it one day.