It feels like yesterday I was wandering the aisles of Target eagerly grabbing newborn diapers waiting-waiting-waiting for my first child to be born. Motherhood seemed to stretch out before me — this blank canvas of years waiting to be filled. I had time. So much time.
It feels like yesterday when I was the mother to two little toddler girls — the hardest years of parenting for me — after all it was just me and two very demanding little ones, and I really didn’t know what I was doing. My days were filled with diaper changes, story reading, and me, gaining confidence in being a mother. I still had so much time. So many years.
It feels like yesterday when my oldest, Hannah, turned five years old. A whole hand. She felt so old. I remember pondering how quickly five years went. But then I looked at the sheet of time and rested in the solid amount of years that were still ahead of us.
It feels like yesterday when I’d explore the beaches of San Diego with my three little girls. We’d spend hours sitting on the sand, exploring tide pools, and watching the surfers go in and out. I was homeschooling now. The options were open — so much time — so much learning to do. Precious, sweet years.
It feels like yesterday when my first son was born. I remember the sweet feel of him in my arms as I rocked him in the hospital. I remember the tears rolling down my cheeks when I thought of the day that he leaves, falls in love, and marries. I remember wanting to remember those hours with just him and me.
It feels like yesterday when I sat my kids down and explained to them about cancer. How I told them that they don’t need to be afraid that Daddy has cancer. I remember holding sweet baby Caleb and looking at Hannah, my oldest, and thinking that I saw her grow up just a bit during that conversation. How I wanted to protect her heart — not make her deal with cancer — she was only nine. Half way, I thought. We’ve already made it half way.
It feels like yesterday when we moved to this house. I remember the kids running around in circles on the main level. My little toddler boy, Brennan, with baby Caleb crawling behind. Gracie was growing up. Hannah and Chloe seemed so old. I began to wonder how time was going so fast — when did they start getting so old?
It feels like yesterday when we had our three girls and then three boys. We settled into a routine. Yet, each day seemed to churn through at a faster and faster and faster pace. Now Caleb was little like I just remember Chloe being. Gracie was just starting homeschooling. And those older girls? They were growing up. Too fast. Too fast. Too fast.
It feels like yesterday when Samuel was born. I remember the drive to the hospital — the excitement of walking through Target right before picking up a new memory card for the camera — the joy as we held him, our seventh child, the first time. He was so little. So sweet. His childhood spread out before me like a blank canvas waiting to be filled.
It feels like yesterday when they were all little.
Sometimes I wish I could slow down the days of motherhood.
Just for a moment.
I didn’t think it would go this fast.
Sometimes I miss those older ones of mine when they were little.
They only stay that way for a teeny window of time.
Soon it will be yesterday.