Refresh the water cups, pull back the covers, turn on the night-light. In the midst of my nightly bedtime routine, I stop dead in my tracks and look around. I take in the trinkets, the treasures, the brightly colored toys and the marks on the walls as if I am seeing it all for the first time.
Lately, I’ve been listening. Everyone tells me to enjoy this phase while it lasts because in the blink-of-an-eye, it will be gone and I will wonder where all of the time went. It’s just so easy to get distracted in the day-to-day rush and to miss the gradual evolution of our children. Board books become picture books then chapter books. Doll babies become barbies and diapers become underwear.
I kneel down on the ground and look around the room from their perspective. I can see inside the tiny oven but am in awe of how large the bed appears. In a decade, surely they’ll feel it is too small for them.
I want to freeze this moment. I close my eyes and thank God for these children. For the opportunity to be their mother, for this life I have been granted. I am overwhelmed with a deep sense of gratitude for the tiny teacups, the stuffed animals, and for those God-forsaken barbie shoes I always seem to step on in my bare feet.
I will remind myself to do this more often. To appreciate the perfect imperfections of our daily lives for the days may seem long now, but soon I will wish for them back. And I don’t want to regret not taking a moment to pause and marvel at these miracles we’ve created.