Sometimes I look with a bit of jealousy at people coming and going-childless and with ease. Sometimes I look forward to a day to myself, with grown kids mostly able to mange through a day with out me. Sometimes I think about finishing my collage degree that was barely getting started when I became a Mom at 20. Sometimes I imagine a laundry room that is not constantly working and a grocery cart that is not over flowing-with both children and food. Sometimes I think about being able to shower at a leisurely pace, get only myself fed and ready and sit through sacrament meeting in peace. I dream of having time with Scott, to travel, date, read and talk alone. I think about cleaning the house and having it stay that way longer than 5 minutes. I fantasize about sleeping alone, undisturbed, all-night-long. I think about the back seat of the car NOT looking like it could feed the starving with it's crumbs. I think of the garage floor and how it would look without 55 bikes, scooters, ramps, roller blades and the half built projects of Branson. I think about being available to visit friends and take on projects and join book clubs, blog everyday and work on all those photo albums. I wonder about being able to go to the temple whenever I want and stay there as long as I feel like it. I contemplate a day somewhere in the future when I can crawl into bed at night NOT so entirely physically and emotionally exhausted that I swear I cant get up in the morning and do it all again. I have days where all of that sounds just so good, so easy and so fun and exciting.
So if I think about all those things then WHY oh WHY do I cry at the thought of Ella going to all day school in the fall.
Why do I have pain in my chest when I see Kaden's shape literally shifting into manhood before my eyes. I look at him and will my mind to remember his chubby baby cheeks and his white toddler hair. Begging my subconscious to hold on to those images that seem left in another life.
Why does my heart pound when I see the calender approaching the 11th birthday of my little twins, how could so much time have passed and where did those two sweet babies go? Find them I tell myself! Search your mind and memory and find them! Hang on to the days of napping and loving and singing about popcorn trees and taking baths and reading stories, hang on before they are so far away that no matter how hard I look they have slipped away.
Why do I cry and hurt and ache to see Cali growing up and changing and talking in full sentences and marching into nursery without even looking back my way?
Why do I drip long sad tears into my lap when I fold up all those clothes that don't fit these bigger bodies and why do I have to hold the old baby blankets up to my face, as if breathing them in will somehow give me back a moment of their infancy. Why does my soul and spirit and heart beg those sweet summer weeks to stay a little longer, leaving me more days of their childhood. "Dont go" I scream, "Stay a little longer" I plead. Even while I hurt to see my time with them has it's limits I tell them, "go, explore, join that club, try that sport, prepare for that mission, plan for that school! you can do it!" It's me that's encouraging the growth and the growing and the changing. I am making my own sorrow! I am providing for my own loss!
This Motherhood is some crazy business! Making me hurt and happy and jealous and worried sick and profoundly proud all at once. It's a wonder why anyone would want to sign up for this in the first place and yet it is completely beyond me why every woman in the world is not enlisted and eager, desperate even for the smallest chance at it.
I am certifiably nuts, positively two-faced, equal parts thrilled and heartbroken when they grow up, 100% devastated at the work and 100% honored for the privledge. Looking for the finish line all the while begging for another several laps.
I am crazy!