They say life is about choices, and last night I made the choice to have movie night with my five year old instead of slave over my kitchen for an hour. We made popcorn (that's an entirely different mess, still on my living room table), we put on our favorite pajamas, and curled up on the couch and stayed up way past her bedtime.
I missed the first few minutes of the movie. I just couldn't quit staring at this precious little person cuddled up next to me. Those big blue eyes, and that sweet little voice. And then my heart sank. I realized just how fast these past five years had flown by. I realized that before I know it this precious little person will likely be taller than me. My oldest will be eleven in just under two months. That's two short years away from a teenager. Five short years away from driving. Seven short years away from him going off to college. Yes, I got a little emotional.
If only I could bottle up that feeling of time running out and put it in a pretty antique bottle with a lid. I would set it on the counter in my messy kitchen, where I spend most of my time. And when that precious five year old isn't being so precious, but instead starting to throw a tantrum, I could unscrew the lid and let a little bit of that feeling rush over me. I bet then, losing my patience wouldn't even be an option.
Ideally, I guess I should have a couple of bottles. This way I could also set one upstairs on the bookshelf between the kids bedrooms. Then when my boys decide that they would rather stay up talking and giggling instead of actually going to sleep, I could grab it on my way in their room. Surely it would help me remember that, this too shall pass. One day, all to soon, I'm sure they'll decide they want their own rooms, and that cuddling up next to one another just isn't cool anymore.
Maybe I could find a neat bottle to put in our classroom, or a jar, or maybe even a five gallon bucket with a lid! You see, this is where I need the most patience and the biggest reminder of how quickly these years will pass.
This way, when my seven year old tries to once again divert attention from his math lesson by asking impossible questions about fictional things, I won't become frustrated. Instead I could simply take off the lid, and stick my whole head in the bucket. Then I could come up thankful for how blessed I am to have such a creative, funny little guy. Surely then I would be reminded to use his wonderful imagination as a teaching tool, instead of looking at it as a time waster.
For all of you moms like myself who at times feel frustrated with the everyday battles of raising children.... one day we'll look up and realize it's been years since we've witnessed a tantrum. They won't need our constant reminders to blow their noses or wash their hands. One day the complaints of how "gross" the meal we just spent hours preparing is, will stop. The muddy footprints across the floor..... only a memory. And the frustration we feel trying to get them to clean their room...... it will be replaced with missing the precious five year old that once occupied that messy room.
I know there's no way to put feelings in a pretty bottle, but I'm going to take a lesson from my seven year old and try really hard to imagine there is. I will choose to be joyful in all things concerning raising these little people, and pray that I am constantly aware of just how fast this precious time will pass!
