cherish it now, they say.

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

i got the call this morning at 5am that grey's school was going to have a snow day and like mothers round the county, I sighed and whispered to myself, 'oh boy, it's going to be a long day.'   there's something in the air on snow days, isn't there?  a particular kind of hay fever sprouts up and has the kids climbing the walls (in my case that's a literal statement).

I sent some serious gratitude out there to the pinterest gods and goddesses (read: creative moms) who saved breakfast (these delicious cinnamon/sugar cream cheese roll-ups that double bonus'ed me by using up some old hot dog buns that were headed for the bird food pile) and then saved the actual snow day with these Bingo sheets that had the kids all pumped about checking things off the list and required only one screen option (win!)

As is only imaginable in a house filled with four siblings six years and younger, our snow day was filled with high pitched, decibel pushing:  shouting, laughing, screaming, crying, and giggling.  

The loudness of raising children - why?   

We also suffered through a healthy serving of sibling teasing, fighting, not sharing, waking-up-of-the-infant-napping, pouting, and negotiations.  My initial thought at 5am was indeed correct - it was a long day. 

But there was a moment at lunch that stopped me in my tracks of scraping half-eaten marshmallows off the kitchen floor (literally) when all four kids were at the table for lunch completely ignorant of me while they cracked up laughing at Violet making some weird noise and Rusty with his face covered in pizza sauce.  

And there they were.

my four.
all under one roof right where I could see that they were happy 
and safe 
and comfortable 
with full bellies. 

and isn't that really what is in the pit of the pit and the root of the root of a mumma's deepest heart?  That all of her babies are happy(ish at least), safe, comfortable (ish), and with a full belly...and if it's where I can count their head - even better.  

My most calm, worry-free, pure bliss moments are those early morning sips of coffee because I know right where they all are and I know they are snoozily dreaming, and safe, and warm, and full enough belly that they aren't awake yet.  They are all snug in their beds under this one roof. 
 And also, they are quiet.  
and so perfectly 'my-baby 'while they sleep.  

How is that you can still see the wisps of your baby in a child of nearly seven if they are sleeping soundly.  Is that always the case?  I hope.  Even as they get bigger than me and grown and ignore me and think I'm the most annoying ever and 'leave me alone' mum!  Just like that sweet (only slightly creepy) momma who sneaks into her grown up man's bedroom window to rock him back and forth and back and forth and back and forth to sing...I will also be sweetly (only slightly creepily) peering in on my sleeping children to see 'my-baby' still in there on the curves of their cheeks and the tips of their eyelashes.  Probably also smelling the tops of their heads...don't judge my sentimental mother's heart! (hah).

The four of them sitting there, giggling and being silly in their own little world, but under this one roof - all smooshed on that one bench seat together (their choice!) on a snowy winter day will surely be one of those quick flashes of 'how it used to be' in the movie montage slideshow of my younger years when I'm an older momma to kids who are bigger than me and ignore each other and think both I and their siblings are the most annoying ever and just want to be left alone! kind of teenagers.  

Mums who have made it through these blur years always tell us in the thick of it to cherish it because it goes by so fast.  And I get the sentiment, and really, I can see how fast (with a wave & a snap!) as I have a nearly seven year old and nearly kindergarten aged (but thinks she's teenaged) child.  How in the world did we get here from those newborn babies with the toothless grins and their formerly wrinkled, squishy necks to these big kids that grow out of their pants every other week and know the words to Maroon Five songs?  

But also, it's impossible to cherish it every.single.moment of because Sweet baby Ray's bbq sauce...the loud, and the mess, and the MUM I NEED MORE DRINK! right as I just sit down every darn time.

But I think as long as you snag yourself on a few seconds occasionally of those moments that make you think, "yes, this right here, this is going to end up in the montage of my motherhood.  This, right here that I can frame my fingers around and mentally (or literally) snap this snippet of this messy, loud, chaotic moment...this is the good stuff."  

well then, I think you got that 'cherish it now' thing down pretty solid. 

keep keeping on, mommas.  
also, i'm cheers'ing you with some wine tonight.
to us!  ::clink::


  1. Love this! I have those moments and go ahhh, thank you!

  2. This spoke to my mama heart in so many ways. Thank you for clinking glasses with me across the United States and for reminding me that I don't have to cherish all the moments to cherish this time with them. Just a few golden moments will do.

  3. Love those little toes through the bench! xoxo