This was written four years ago after my whole family got sick with influenza and my then little Samuel ended up in Children’s Hospital for almost a week. As I was reading archives I came across this sweet post and I realized how time has passed and how much these words matter. Enjoy and capture those moments. ~Rachel
I was beyond tired.
I had come home from the hospital to a home with sick children. My sweet family tried to straighten up for me – and did a lovely job – but they’d all been sick for the week and the to-do list with urgents was overflowing. By Sunday night I was so exhausted that I didn’t need anyone telling me I looked tired because I simple knew it. I had cleaned, wandered way too long in Target trying to buy groceries but because I was so tired I was making loops going back for things I forgot, made dinner, and done some laundry. At that moment, all I really wanted to do was sit on my couch and do absolutely nothing.
Carry me upstairs.
It was my five year old, Elijah.
Carry me upstairs to bed, momma.
Not tonight, Elijah. I am too tired.
And I looked at his face, his little face that I missed terribly while I was in the hospital, and I saw the look of disappointment cross it.
It was a mumble, a hush little mumble from the boy who just wanted me to carry him up the stairs. And then it hit me – so quickly that it surprised me – I simply don’t know how much longer I will be able to carry him up the stairs and place him in his bed. Time keeps moving, even when I’m tired and worn – and he keeps growing.
So I picked him up, the little boy who is lighter because he was sick with influenza as well, and told him I loved him and carried him up our stairs to his room.
The days are short.
I almost missed that moment, that two minutes of me giving of myself and being mom, that sweet window in time, and opportunity, for me to carry him up those stairs to his bed with the blue blanket with cars and trucks on it that was faded from so many times in the laundry. Yes, I was tired, but I almost let that tiredness push the tender moment of motherhood by.
I know how tiring motherhood can be.
I know about the bumps, the bends, the tough moments, the blips out of normal, the spills on the floor, the constant cries for mom, and the giving giving giving giving that you must do every single day. It’s exhausting and often feels like you do the same thing day in and day out and day in and day out again. But, I’m whispering to you a reminder today – catch the opportunities, the memories, in the midst of the busy.
Carrying them up the stairs.
Reading a story.
Cutting their bread into triangles.
Writing a sweet note.
Rocking them to sleep.
Sitting next to them and hearing their dreams.
Those little gifts are nestled in the fabric of busy.
And often, sweet mother, it means that you give just a bit more – like me being so tired and still getting up and picking up Elijah – for you to realize just how sweet a moment you were just blessed to have received.
I love you momma. I missed you.
Elijah brushed my hair from my face and looked me in the face and in his sweet blues were the tiniest hints of tears. Tears from a little boy who was trying to be brave, but knowing his little brother was in the hospital last week, and knowing that his momma was there with him. Tears from a boy that just, plain and simple, had missed his mom.
Oh, Elijah, I love you too. And I missed you mega.
(Mega is my word for telling my kids how much I love them.)
Thank you for carrying me up the stairs, momma.
An opportunity. Caught. One that was almost missed.
You brave and giving and loving and tired mother can find those sweet moments within your day as well – even in the busy.
Today, today may you see those blessings of yours with eyes that are awake and celebrating the gift of normal. Stop the agenda, the to-do list, and take time for them.
Those up the stair moments with the head on the shoulder will not last forever.
Catch them now.
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