Time has been treacherous lately, whether it’s managing the preschool snack responsibility schedule or just keeping bread in the house, I seem to be on a wheel spinning faster than I can carry my feet. We haven’t had any complete busts, but there have been forgotten backpacks and tardy arrivals. My nights, once long enough to fit blog entries and tv, have become a startling whoosh of checking the mail to chucking the night’s unfinished dinners into the trash after a lengthy bedtime routine.
Sean and I are working together, literally in the same office, yet our rhythm is off, taking me back to my hurdling days— stutter steps to avoid a spill from misjudging distance or awkward lunges to try and catch up. There is no anger, but unapologetic exhaustion and disappointment fill the air.
The girls are a carousel; alternately gay and inviting or cacophonous and harrowing. They spin round and round, their braids and pigtails unravelling and their necks longer with each passing moment. I pause to track the pattern, to find my way on, to at least be upon the same wave of time, but as I prepare to leap there is a crescendo—a tooth.
A triumph of autonomy that nearly mocks me with its finality.
My weariness, a growing awareness of this passage of time, of the inevitability of their growing. Leaving. I see myself, the lines of my body beautiful and strong, the architecture of my face familiar and forgiven. I want to live in this moment, throw back my head and leave the dishes for another day while I spin with Sean, deep romantic dips by moonlight in the kitchen. I want to sprawl along the floor and frolic with the girls. I am desperate to explode within now. I want not to look back even a year from now and think, “Why didn’t I just do it?”
And yet, as he rubs my shoulders or as they beg for a story, I find myself tragically frozen, wistful for what has already passed, devastated by the time tomorrow will mark as gone. I throw this out now to startle myself. A jump start. No more ruing what I haven’t done. The prick of aging and missing can be caresses of achieving and choosing, if I only forgive myself my mortality. My imperfections.
I just want to catch up to my now.
My now just woke. A howl from upstairs, my order back from my reverie. We do this day by day, don’t we? By the time I get up those stairs I am going to have forgiven myself, because not to, well that’s just unforgivable, isn’t it?
Day by day, yes. One day at a time. And even that is a struggle sometimes. Hugs….
You've got so much on your plate. Please be easy on yourself; eat dessert when you can.
You only have so many hours. I bet you are managing better than you think. But I feel the ache in your words…
It is, all at once, a blink and a staring contest. It is an enigma.
Day by day, you do your best and give what you can in the moment. You are a good mama. Remember that.
Your struggle itself is beautiful – if you didn't love so much and so deeply it wouldn't be so challenging. Thank you so much for sharing with the rest of us! You have reminded me not to get lost in the pace of the race.
I agree with Becky. I can tell by the words you write how in love with your girls and husband you are! You feel so deeply for them it hurts. Keep your chin up, and just make sure the girls always know how in love with them you are (which I'm sure you have no problem showing them!) That's all that really matters in the end!
I feel this too. Each night I sit and think of all the things I could have or should have done with my kids instead of letting the day pass as just another day in the hustle of the world.
But I don't think we'll ever be able to just live in today and maybe that's why these days are so precious when we look back on them. They are precious for their fleetingness. (IS that even a word? Well, it is now.)
You knock my socks off.
Will be first in line to buy your book. Can I pre-order it now?
You make me want to be a better writer. And a better mother.
You have captured this so well…. how did you know about my days? The sisterhood of chaos.
You are such an unbelievable blessing
I just wandered over to your blog from my own and I wanted to say thanks for allowing me to find you. Our little one is only two months old but I already wonder how so many moms find the time to get everything done in the day. Thanks for being a super woman like so many others 🙂
Thank you for reminding me to take every moment as it comes.. and to take nothing for granted!
You are a beautiful writer- I appreciate the way you view the world 🙂
"I am desperate to explode within now."
My god, this is great writing. Thank you for taking the time to share. Now. Go live.
I think that trying our best really has to be enough for anyone.
Lovely, lovely post. I'm sorry things are so harried right now.
This is just lovely. In your words, we all find truth.
Time just keeps on going by. The past and the future seem to have much more time to linger, don't they?
Wow. So beautifully said.