A season of life

Sometimes while browsing other blogs, I read stories from moms about the season of life that they are in. I've talked about it a few times myself. I love reading about how moms handle similar situations to mine. I've gained new outlooks and changed my thought process many times since I became a stay-at-home mom over three years ago.


So many things have changed, yet so many have stayed the same. Here is where I am today;


I'm sitting in my living room with the TV on very low as I listen to both Harper and Hollin fighting their naps upstairs. The weather here is beautiful and there is a sparkling pool outside with several rafts floating on top, begging to be used. There's a huge pile of dishes in my sink, but I can't do them now. It would destroy the quiet that I am trying to maintain. I'm in an old white tank top and black stretchy pants with my hair piled on top of my head and no makeup or jewelry. Toys are strewn about and cleaning needs to be done. My husband is at work, and I am here, alone deciding whether I should brave the trip to Target by myself, or hope that Hollin's formula will stretch until tomorrow. I think it will.


Sometimes I feel as if my entire life revolves around sleep.  Trying to get babies to sleep during the day and night and then dealing with my own lack of sleep because Hollin still isn't sleeping through the night. 


Sleep. sleep. sleep.


There is a vicious cycle of chores that are never finished. By the time I have my laundry caught up, I have two baskets full of baby clothes to wash, dry, fold and put away. When Jimmy comes home from work at 9pm, I have dinner ready. We eat and catch up on our day while the dishes stay in the kitchen until the next morning. I would rather spend 9-11pm with my husband instead of cleaning up dinner. I never wake up to a sparkling kitchen.


Our house is an endless source of projects. There is major landscaping to be done. There are toys scattered all over the backyard, despite my efforts to keep them picked up. The entire bottom half of our house needs painted, not to mention several more rooms on the inside.


But all of it can wait.


Every day when I wake up, I make a concious decision to be with my babies. To be present. In the moment. To purposefully put off things that don't have to be done. There are things that I don't worry with because I know it will go back to how it was in a day. My philosphy is that we have years and years to get our house just the way we want it.  Right now, my job is to be mommy.


There will come a day when my babies don't need me so much.  There will come a day when I go back to work and will miss these days.  I don't want to look back and regret how much time I spent cleaning and obsessing over my house instead of playing with Harper when he asked me to. Or playing dress-up with Hollin and taking pictures of her in these precious baby clothes that she will grow out of so quickly.

 This is my life right now. All day, every day.  Sure, there are trips to the beach and pool time, but they are few and far between. I sit inside on many pretty days, waiting for them to wake up and start the process of diaper changes, feedings, playing and trying to negotiate with Harper on how many chocolate cookies he can have.

There have been a multitude of milestones these last two weeks. Hollin has her first tooth, has almost mastered crawling and can go from laying down to sitting up on her own. Just today, I went upstairs to find her awake from her napping and sitting up.

  Harper has self-graduated to taking showers instead of baths and insists on going to the restroom alone in public places. (Mommy stands outside of the stall.)

I don't want to miss a second. There is nothing in the world worth missing any of these moments for.


Many of you may have read it, but I always refer back to this poem during those moments when I wish my house was more orderly.

Babies Don’t Keep
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo

The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

It took me a long time to get where I am now. I used to put so much pressure on myself to keep a clean house, cook excellent meals every night and always have it together. I thought that's what stay-at-home-moms did. And I wanted to be able to do it too.

I choose to live a slower-paced life right now. Of course there are things that pop up and keep me busy, but I try to keep them at arms length. I know how to say no. I know how to slow down and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Take a moment to be present today. You'll be glad you did.