Wishing Time Away, Willing it to Stop

Dear sweethearts,

I have been at the shops for less than an hour. As soon as my key clicks in the front door one of you registers my return and runs towards the entrance hall shouting, “MOMMY!” This is swiftly followed by a cry of “YOU’RE BACK!” from your sister, as if I have been gone for days. Baby Thea isn’t quite so eloquent, so she just yells enthusiastically.

I wonder how long it will be before you barely notice my coming and going; how long before I am no longer the centre of your world. I am learning I need to embrace this season of motherhood.

At bedtime I sit beside you, Scarlett, my “big” girl. You’re only four-and-a-half but as we reflect on your day I marvel at how quickly you are changing and growing. We chat for a while and then I kiss you goodnight. As I stand to leave the room you ask if I will sit beside you a while longer. As I watch you fall asleep while stroking your “blankie” – which you have had since infancy – I no longer see my rapidly growing girl; instead you seem so little, because you still are. In these moments I am acutely aware of the need to embrace motherhood for all it is.

I often recall the beauty of the times when you girls were newborns. How precious those fleeting days were when all you wanted to do was curl up on my chest and sleep. That season lasts a mere few months but all too often I wished those days away because of sleeplessness, or feelings of incompetence or being overwhelmed. Now I long to relive them while simultaneously relieved it is all behind me and I am past “the hardest part” – the first year.

Thea and Kyla, you still wake in the night. When you do this I hold onto the reassurance of the teenage years when I will have to coax you out of your beds. But when that day comes there will be no more midnight cuddles, or calming breastfeeds or reassuring whispers when sickness prevails. I will likely miss these times when they are gone.

Each day I oscillate between the joy of parenting and the sheer exhaustion brought on by the relentlessness of it all. When you girls ask me to fetch things or wipe your bottoms or dress you, I find myself yearning for the day when you can do these things for yourselves. Yet, I will often interfere when you do make attempts at independence – I suppose I feel I can show you a better way. How annoying I must be with my constant involvement. It is as if I feel the need to shape and mould you, before time gets away from me and I lose my window of influence.

I may not get each day quite right but I am trying to appreciate this season of babycinos, ballet lessons and bike rides, nappies and nap times, tissue-box crafts and tantrums, playgrounds and princess parties, endless snacks and sleep deprivation – and not look to tomorrow or a time ahead when a peaceful life propositions me. The days while you are still little are finite; always wishing for life to be easier or different will only leave me with feelings of regret in the future. I don’t want to look back and feel like I could have been more present or engaged. I want to know I gave my all.

Yes, things will look different in the not-too-distant future but that will bring new challenges. The more I dwell on it, the key to parenting is learning how to enjoy every season and if something isn’t working, fix it. If I simply endure life until the next season comes around I will have missed it all. On days when I find myself wishing time away while willing it to stop, I will remind myself to embrace motherhood for all it is. On those days, I will recall the words of Paula Cole in the Dawson’s Creek era: “I don’t want to wait for our lives to be over” (I’ll tell you all about Dawson, Pacey and Joey when you are older).

You will hate me saying this when you are grown-up but you truly will always be my babies. And when I am no longer the centre of your world’s, I suspect you will never be far from mine.

Love,
Mum