I have been rushing through life for the past 12 years, ever since I graduated from high school.
Rushing to get through each semester of college. Rushing to get that cap and gown. Rushing to be done with school. Rushing through my internship so I could finally sit to take my dietitian board exam. Rushing to my wedding day. Rushing to get a job.
And finally, rushing to buy a house, get pets, get pregnant and to get to a stage a life where I felt content. No matter what, there was always something bigger and better I was rushing to get to. And once I got there, I always had a mourning period. Mourning the stage that I rushed to get through, without realizing how the busyness has distracted me from moments I will never get back.
I can barely even remember the events of the night my now-husband proposed to me, I was too busy thinking ahead to the wedding. College is a blur of a never-ending to-do list that I was a slave to. Our first year of marriage left me constantly distracted, wondering when and where we would finally settle down and buy and house, and if and when I would be able to get pregnant. When I did become pregnant, I couldn’t even enjoy my pregnancy. I let it fly by without stopping to enjoy the little amount of time I had left with just my husband and I. And as wonderful as it is to have her here, oh how I wish I would have savored those moments when I could feel her moving around inside of me!
Although for years my mentality has been “tomorrow will be better,” that has changed since becoming a mom. Time is a double-edged sword, both my friend and my enemy. It’s my friend when 7PM comes- when it’s finally time to start bath and getting ready for bed. Some days, 7PM cannot come soon enough. It’s my enemy when I’m constantly reminded how fast my baby is growing. She’s not a baby anymore. She’s become independent and is growing into a little person with her own opinion. I’ve heard the saying so many times- The days are long but the years are short. It’s so true.
Even though I desperately want time to stop, each day feels like a marathon that I’m just trying to get through.
The first mile is getting breakfast ready- it’s slow and steady because it’s the one time of the day that we can take it nice and easy- although my mind has the whole race planned out in my head and my entire day has already been strategized. Miles 2-8 are quick- get dressed, teeth brushed, bags packed, in the car, then out the door as quickly as possible to wherever we’re going- preschool drop-off, music class, the gym, grocery store. Miles 8-13- these are painful to get through but I know once I’m through them I’m halfway there to one of the best parts of the day: naptime. Lunch, cleanup, laundry, planning dinner and doing a couple phone consults with patients is something I try to get through quickly because I want at least one mile of rest, where I can take it nice and easy before she wakes up. Miles 14-22 are always the toughest mentally- that time between nap and dinner. By miles 22-26 I’m tired but encouraged because (most days) I have my cheerleader with me (my husband) who can help me to the finish line. Bedtime- after about 60 minutes of reading, singing the same song over and over and saying a prayer for everyone we know plus anything stuffed that’s in her room- the marathon is finally over.
Don’t get me wrong, I love every part of it. But I am so guilty of being stuck in the “just finish the race” mentality. Haven’t I learned?! I have. But I can’t seem to stop myself from wishing away today and longing for tomorrow.
I have a lot to look forward to, just like I always have. I look forward to watching my daughter grow up to be an independent young woman. I can’t wait to see what her interests and hobbies will be, and where her passions will lead her to. I’m excited to take her shopping for new school clothes, her prom dress, her wedding dress. I can’t wait to see her start a family and have babies of her own. But I don’t want to rush to get there. I don’t want to miss out anymore.
This stage of life- it’s hard. I’m okay with admitting that. Even though it’s hard, I wouldn’t trade it for any other season right now. It’s exactly where I want to be.
Today, Carli wanted me to play blocks with her before she napped. I had an afternoon planned with things we needed to do, so I wanted her down for a nap at a certain time. Instead of fighting it, I sat with her and helped her build a tower. We built the same tower over and over again. It fell down, we picked it back up and started over. Even though this is an activity that would typically so easily lose my attention, I couldn’t help but notice how fascinated she was with it all. I can’t even explain the joy it brought to her eyes- to have my full and undivided attention. It’s hard for me to just sit and play without a thousand things going through my head, or picking up things around me, or running upstairs for “just a minute” to throw in some laundry. She had my full presence. That’s what she needed and we both soaked up every minute.
Tomorrow is full of new adventures and milestones. I look forward to that. But today’s opportunities will be gone if I continue racing through them. Today I’m going to choose to be present and soak up each moment slowly and with intention. So today, I’m here. Because tomorrow, those blocks will be replaced with a completely new interest. Tomorrow, bedtime will be shorter and she won’t want me to read her the same book 20 times. Tomorrow, she’ll be one day closer to fixing breakfast on her own. Tomorrow, while it may be easier, isn’t always better. Today is only here once- and I don’t want it to pass me by anymore.