My Hope for This Year

                       

A few years ago my best friend Kelly gave me the sweetest book Let Me Hold You Longer by Karen Kingsbury.  I had forgotten all about it until I recently discovered it on our bookshelf.  It's all about those bittersweet parts of parenthood that often slip by without us ever really knowing...the very last time you will ever pick your child up or give her a bottle or rock him to sleep.  I got this book at a time when I was up to my ears in dirty diapers and mommy,mommy,MOMMY!!! and messes beyond messes like this, so I didn't--couldn't--really appreciate what it was about.  And I'm sure I'll have even more appreciation in another 5, 10, or 20 years.  But for now, with my two big boys and my not-really-baby-anymore baby girl, I find myself nostalgic over those "lasts" a little more often than I used to be.  

Anna Claire is our third and final baby, and I have tried to treasure every single second of her sweet life so far.  I can honestly say I don't often take moments with her for granted, and I can get caught up in her little toddler world where everything she says is adorable (C'mon Mommy, let's snuggle)  and everything about her is tiny and cute and everything she does makes me smile (seriously nothing cuter than footie pj's and pigtails). 

She's just so fun right now.  She brings our family such joy each day, and I love that about her.  Over the last several months, Anna Claire has slowly nursed less and less.  There are days that go by now that she doesn't nurse at all.  It is always in my mind each time she ask to nurse, if this will be the last time.  The last time that I hold her and nurse her.  The last time that I ever nurse a baby.  I try as hard as I can to memorize the moment--to burn it into my mind somehow.  But I know that the weight of her in my arms and the way she snuggles into me will escape me far too soon.  I know this to be true because as hard as I try, I cannot remember what it felt like to hold Jack or Owen as babies.  I look at pictures and videos...

but the feeling of them, the weight of them in my arms...what they smelled like fresh from their naps or how their toddler voices sounded or what their baby hair felt like as I stroked their heads, or even their tiny hands in mine...it's all gone. 

Now that I realize how fleeting it all is, I desperately try to hold on to each moment, especially when I know it might be a last.  I remember reading an article once about sending a child off to college.  One part stuck with me--

"Parenthood offers many lessons in patience and sacrifice. But ultimately, it is a lesson in humility. The very best thing about your life is a short stage in someone else’s story. And it is enough." 

Whoa.  But, you know, he has a point.

We don't think about any of that going through this day-to-day routine of parenthood.  But the endless hours of cooking, rocking babies, folding laundry, potty training, playing board games, having sword fights, snuggling in bed, reading books, changing sheets, bathing, summer vacations, sick days, coloring pictures, doing homework, laughing, crying, teaching, loving, waking up, brushing teeth, baking cookies, birthday parties, Christmas mornings, dancing to loud music, wearing princess dresses, praying, loving some more, tickling, laughing some more, fighting, hugging, driving to practices, watching soccer games, and every other thing I have yet to experience as a parent are the best parts of my life...but they won't be for them.  They will have their own lives and their own families to look forward to one day...and I look forward to that season, as well.  But for now, I want to try to hold on to every single moment that I can.  I know I've already said goodbye to many, many treasured moments, but I will think about--and remember--the lasts I still have left to cherish.

The last time Anna Claire will ask me to kiss her owies.

The last time Owen will ask me to play stuffed animals with him.

The last time Jack will want me to have a light saber duel.

The last time Owen will ask to ride the carouself (yes, that's how he says it).

The last time I will rock Anna Claire to sleep.

The last time Jack will sit in my lap.

The last time Owen will crawl in my bed next to me when he has a bad dream.

The last time Anna Claire will reach her hands up in the air so that I can pick her up.

The last time that I will have the ability to make Jack feel safe by just being near him.

This school year has been more challenging, with both boys in school now, Anna Claire in MDO, and me teaching.  We've been busier than I would like.  We have rushed through moments and days and missed opportunities to be present and thankful.  I'm sorry to say I have raised my voice and been frustrated too often and missed chances to teach my children valuable life lessons.  I have probably missed a few of those lasts without ever knowing it.  I hope this year will bring us all more gratitude, more reflection, more acceptance that my kids are still kids and will act like kids, more moments worth keeping, more kindness in our home.  I want us to be truly thankful for all the firsts and the lasts and every moment in between. 

I love to hear all the different ways families show gratitude and make moments special.  From gratitude jars to photo-a-day projects to kids quote books, there are so many ways to capture those special moments.  I'm trying to decide what things we might do this year to help us keep our memories going, and I'd love to hear about what has worked for you.  Please share!