My Children are My Inspiration

It is Monday, April 7, 2008. I am 39 years old. I hate to say things like, “Where does the time go?” Because it sounds so cliché, but there it is. I’m of the age now where the passage of time just baffles me. I hate that. It makes me feel old. I don’t think I’m old. I mean I know I’m not a kid anymore, but I’ve still got a long ways to go before I die. At least I hope so.

I was watching my daughter walk from the van to my mom’s house this morning and just could not reconcile that big kid with the little four pound baby we brought home from the hospital. How is this the same child? She will be 9 years old in about seven weeks. She’s getting so tall already. Her legs are really long. I am so proud of her it’s unreal. But at the same time my hear breaks when I realize she’s never going to be that little child that needs me completely anymore.

Ah, but that is the catch 22 of parenting isn’t it? You want them to become independent and it actually is a help when you realize they can do things for themselves and do things to help you. But, it also means they don’t need you quite as much anymore.

I loved it when all my kids wanted/needed was to be in my arms. Knowing that they needed me that much was very gratifying. However, it was also stressful. Having to do everything for another person takes a lot of time and physical and mental energy. Caring for a baby, toddler and younger child is definitely a labor of love.

Now that they are getting older, it is so much fun to play games with them that they could not play when they were younger. There’s something bonding about doing household chores together and the teaching process that goes along with that. Giving them these responsibilities and sharing new fun stuff with them makes them develop and blossom. I can see both of my children becoming incredible people right before my eyes.

Caleb is one of the most loving and caring people I’ve ever met. He wants so badly to just have time with all of us and to have someone around all the time. He does not like to be alone, but at the same time he is becoming more independent and is developing his own interests. This means sometimes we have to do things we’re not interested in just so we can spend time with him and get to know him on his level. This can be annoying and joyful all at the same time.

Having children has taught me that it is possible to feel a hundred different emotions all at the same time. It’s taught me to take each day and enjoy the little things in it. It has taught me to love my children for who they are and be patient with their learning process. It’s taught me that each day is precious and that each smile is precious.

Being a parent has taught me that sometimes I have to have heartache in order to teach them something they need to understand. It’s taught me what my parents meant when they said, “This is going to hurt me more than it will you.”

Becoming a mother has taught me exactly what the word love really means. Love is realizing you want time to stand still and move forward at the same time because you want to hold on to those precious moments forever, but you can’t wait to see what new adventure there will be to share with your children.

(Note: This was written during my lunchtime at work after thoughts started swirling from watching my daughter walk from the van to her grandmother's door. It's also started giving me ideas for at least two scrapbook pages.)