Slow Down

Time. It passes. Sometimes it feels like time is going at a snails pace, like in the third trimester of pregnancy or when you are late and stuck at that red light, and sometimes it feels like it is flying, when you’re on vacation, or sleeping. I remember when I was growing up, wanting to be an adult, have a family, have a JOB, my own money… not have rules. And here we are. Adulting. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

I gave birth to my first son seven years ago. And my second son two short years later. I went through the hardest trials of my life so far during that time. Time sped by. Lightning speed. I do not feel like I enjoyed those years because, let’s face it… having a two year old and an infant is HARD. So with the addition of our third baby boy this year… and my big kids a little older, I can’t help but want time to slow down.

While I am cheering at ball games, pulling lose teeth, and helping my oldest study for real life TESTS… He’s also learning about the trials of this life, the heart ache of mass shootings and the hate in the world. I have to explain why someone would open fire on innocent people, why people of different races sometimes can’t get along and the consequences of our choices. It is hard and a part of parenting that I was not prepared for. But on the other hand, I am also up in the night rocking the baby to sleep, making bottles, watching him learn to sit up and crawl, and keeping him completely sheltered and oblivious from the hate of this world. 

I graphically remember the first time I encountered hatred in the world, the horrific events at the Oklahoma City bombing. I was 7, my oldest son’s age. We heard it on the radio on the way home from school. And then September 11th. I was 15. We watched it live in 9th grade civics. I saw the second plane hit on live TV. I remember the vigil and prayer service my church had that night, we held hands, lit candles and sang. I couldn’t grasp it. I am still not sure I can grasp it. Hatred in the world isn’t new. It didn’t start in October 2017, it didn’t start in 2001. But it is something my 7 year old is beginning to see, it’s something my 4 year old will notice soon… but the baby, right now, he is safe.

So when I get the opportunity to take a nap with the baby instead of fold laundry, snuggle him, listen to his slow breaths and feel his tight grip on my shirt. I will. He doesn’t have to understand yet. He doesn’t have those hard questions yet, he’s oblivious, unaware. And in those peaceful, quiet moments, time is at a standstill. There is no hatred, or despair. He’ll be there soon enough. But today, time can just slow down.

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