"Yes" Baby!

Our trip to the gym began like every other. My “Yes baby” was all smiles and giggles with her little feet hanging over her car seat buckled in tight. “Do you want to go play with your friends, Nug?” “Yesth.” “Are you excited to see Aaron?” “Yesth.” “Are you happy today?” “Yesth.” “Do you love momma?” “Yesth.” “Are you a stinker?” “Yesth.” “He-He yes, yes, you are, momma tricked you!!”

“You have such a beautiful daughter,” a soft voice whispered over the chaos of changing a poopy diaper in the women’s locker room. Huh? I looked up from the bum I just cleaned to find the kind eyes of a sweet old lady smiling at me. I buttoned the snap on her blue jeans and looked up at my daughter. It was near evening time and her clothes had an embarrassing amount of food stained to them, she had picked her socks for the day and insisted they not match (this new “me-do” freedom is a whole new story), along with a lovely design of chocolate face and dried boogers. This elderly lady looked right past all of it and said, “She is so lovely dear, it goes so fast you know.”

I could see it in her eyes that she was thinking back before the days of likely grown grandchildren. It was as though she took my hand through her own fairytale 50+ years ago. I swear I could almost see her children’s images myself. “Enjoy every minute, they grow up so fast” she prompted as Boo waved goodbye.

Before I became a momma, while my sweet baby girl was just a beat in my heart, “everyone” always said it will go so fast once the time comes. I have heard this same phrase plenty of times since then, but as we walked to the car, baby in arms, this elderly lady’s words lingered with me longer and a little plague hung from my heart, “they grow up so fast.”

I knew exactly what “everyone” had been talking about. Where had the time gone? It felt like just yesterday she was swaddled up tight with that precious new baby smell and now here we are 18 months later. Truth is I have been there for every milestone, all of it, having the blessing of being a 95% stay at home mom with the privilege of watching her grow up day to day. But with this privilege, I have found if I am not careful, there is a special kind of guilt that creeps into my heart. It is simply being home with my baby every step of the way, but not actually being present every step of the way…. Having to tell your one year old that you are too busy right now cleaning/cooking/paying bills and that you just don’t have time to play. Should I stop to play for what seems like a moment and bypass the guilt of saying, “no?” Surely those few moment would end in hours of playtime and memories and replace all the days’ productivity of folded clothes in laundry baskets and a kitchen lingering with the scent of pinesol.

Trust me. I can imagine few things that bring me more shame than avoiding my own baby girl, like avoiding the lady selling hand cream at the mall kiosk.

Oh no, I accidently made eye contact while putting the dishes away. Please baby, please don’t come grab momma’s hand to go “yowe-yide” I still have so much work to do.

At times like these, I wish being a stay at home momma was just as all the lazy-sit on your butts- preconceived notions suggest it is, but honestly… celebrating every triumph and crying over scraped knees with her also comes the fear of watching her childhood flash right before my eyes. The horror that I may miss something crucial. That 50 years from now I will be the little old lady warning other young momma’s to “enjoy every minute” while wishing I could do it all over again. I make up for long busy days with ice cream before bedtime and extra-long snuggles with “one more story” 18 times later. As she drifts to sleep I promise myself tomorrow will be different, that I will get it right and make time for “yowe yide” and playing babies. I will be silly and carefree and let the dishes pile up and the laundry stay undone… and then tomorrow comes and I start all over again. But you know what?

If you were to ask my daughter if I am a good momma she would say, “yesth.” If you were to ask her if she is happy, she would again say, “yesth.” And if you were to ask my most precious little girl if she loves her momma I am 100% certain she would say, “yesth!”

That little girl knows I love her. She thinks I am the greatest thing since the last slice of cheese she ate. To her I am the world. Because even in the chaos of the day there was that one special snack, or that one special laugh, or that last push on the swing “yowe-yide,” or just the conversation of what’s on her heart even though her vocabulary doesn’t permit I understand. One day she will wish I wasn’t so hard on myself. She will remember me being silly and fun, but she will also remember me on my hands and knees washing floors. She will recognize the smell of pinesol and it will remind her of home, she will remember having a clean kitchen and counting the wrinkles in my hands from all the soapy water. She will remember the smell of my shirt from the times we snuggle before bed. She will know responsibility. While most hours of the day I’m a frazzled mess always playing referee and keeping glass bottles from shattering, I thank god every day for my little “Yesth” baby. She is that constant reassurance in my life, positive thoughts and believing in myself sink so much deeper into my heart effecting who I am more than I could have ever realized on my own, she is grace. No there is nothing I can do to keep it from going by so fast, but one thing is for certain, she will always remember that I was there every step of the way with her.  She will remember what real life is made of and she will make a good momma one day… a momma just like me… and guess who taught me???

          

When Skies are Grey...

He grabs his gym bag, his backpack, lunch and a few other necessities - and he's off - for the day. "Love you," she whispers from her light sleep, "have a good day."

If it's not a day at her job, she's starts making breakfast for the little one. Eggs and squished bananas make up the floor decor for the first time that day and mashed potatoes end that same day. Babies asleep, she rinses the last few dishes, wipes down the counters, final rounds of locking doors and turning off unnecessary lights, the lights that cause your utility bills to sky rocket. She picks up a few toys that could be a tripping hazard and moves the abandoned shoes to the closet. She grabs a glass of water and takes her vitamins and thinks to herself, "Another day gone."

Another day where she only got to speak briefly to her husband on the phone or over a meal that was mostly spent feeding a cute little monster. Another day where the duties of mommy and daddy had them in the same house, but kept them feeling completely isolated.

On days like these, which is nearly every day, she misses her husband.

She misses the normal uninterrupted adult conversations. The quick trips for ice cream after supper and movies that don't revolve around that damn red monster singing and dancing. She misses the smiles that turn into laughs, and the lingering smell of his cologne left after long hugs.

Gosh, there are days she just misses him; them.

Sometimes she looks back at the younger version of herself those 7 years ago and thinks of all the things she wishes she could have said. She would have told that crazy in love girl to enjoy every second with him and never take it for granted. She would have told her newly engaged self not to worry so much on the details, all she will remember is him anyways, the rest will become a burr. She would tell her newly married self to get advice on budgeting and not be so full of pride to ask for help, and she would tell more recent new-mommy-self to chill out and get off Google, its normal for baby's to blink.

That same girl sometimes wishes she could jump ahead 10, 20, 30 years to the older version of herself. What would her future self tell the momma pulled in a million directions- caught up in taking care of what is necessary while feeling like she is missing everything that really matters, self?

Maybe, just maybe, she would say something like this...

There won’t ever be enough time, let that be okay. There will be so many more times when the demands are constant and your energy runs out and you will question if your letting everyone down and you will try and find ways to be better and fail. She would say that sweet man of yours knows you put every ounce of yourself into your child, the house, the bills, and all those responsibilities. He knows that you rarely get a break or ever stop worrying, caring, or planning. He knows when he returns home at the end of the day that you will be exhausted, but his hope will remain the same day after day and he will pray that you save a little love for him. She will say never to pour all of yourself out that there is nothing left at the end of the day to give that sweet boy, to never forget the love that was so abundant in the beginning, and to remember the boy who became your best friend. She would say never forget the meaning of forever and always. It doesn't have to be perfect for it to be special. It doesn't have to be ideal for it to be great. You will change so much every day, both of you will, but the lord will grow you together, he will keep you together. Yes, there will be moments when you do not recognize the person across the kitchen table from you. You will wonder how the heck you got "here." You will question whether or not you will make it... and then, you will. Dream together. Hope together. Reach goals together. Remind each other of God's promises for your lives. Reach for them. Succeed together.  Sweet girl with hurt in your eyes, start enjoying the ordinary chaotic days sewn together by grace. Let grace make those moments beautiful. Trust in God. Love your husband. Enjoy every second of your journey because in 30 years when you are where I am you will love him more than you ever thought possible. You will love more than you do now, believe me. Sweet girl, just you wait... it will turn out better than your sweetest dreams.... just save a little love for him.