Don’t Tell Me Time is Short
As school in our district comes to a close for the year, Nate and I have been attending graduation parties, helping with end of the school year events at church, and planning out summer activities. Through this time, I’ve been surrounded by mothers of graduating students – mothers who see my toddler and baby and wistfully tell me to enjoy the season – because it goes by all too quickly.
Their words bring tears to my eyes because I already live with the knowledge that my boys are only mine to raise for a season. (It might also be the postpartum hormones that are bringing those tears to my eyes…) I look at Caleb and know that, although he’s only two, I have already used up 1/9 of the time I have to raise him. No, that’s not a lot but it’s something. It’s time I’m never getting back. These two years have flown by and I only have nine more two year periods left.
I want to use the time I have with my boys wisely. I want them to grow into men who are strong but soft, protective but sensitive, steadfast but full of grace. I want to shower them with love and teach them to stand on their own two feet.
In the blink of an eye my stumbling toddler is going to be a preteen who’s obsessed with something that’s the equivalent of the fidget spinners today. In no time at all my baby boy will be running around a soccer field, or blasting out notes on a musical instrument, or trying a new science experiment. After that they’ll be learning to drive, choosing a college, and heading out the door. It’s only a matter of time.
So seasoned mama, I know you mean well but please stop telling me that I only have so much time with my boys. I know that all too well. It’s already breaking my heart.