Surely you've already figured out by now that I rely a little too much on schedules and lists than I should. My life revolves around my little "Paula Deen" calendar that I literally compose my day to day activities in, thriving on crossing off the items I've completed. It's exhilarating to look at my day on paper and see nothing but a bunch of crossed off words — it helps me relax.
But in the last couple of months I've come to another time of restlessness in my life. I'm done having babies and my babies are now toddlers and soon-to-be kindergartners. Uh oh. Now among all the "home survival" type items on my to-do lists I feel the need to include intentional memory making items.
I don't want to miss a thing. I'm afraid with my over-scheduled, crossing-off addiction I might miss the most important, non-list qualifying things that makes life a life worth living.
Like sitting in the back yard and watching my four blessings chase and fall and laugh as they run around the apple tree.
Or catching my two youngest sitting side by side looking at books (upside down, of course) quietly in the playroom.
Listening to my little Bella Rose sing a soft song as she plays with her naked Barbies (because she can't dress them herself).
Witnessing my oldest hit her first baseballs.
Finding my son in the blackberry patch ... again.
Memories that may not seem note-worthy now but are priceless in the future.
When I was in labor giving birth to all these time, money and energy-sucking creatures my mom said to me over and over, "This too shall pass."
Now the labor pains have passed. The bottles and binkies are gone. I can imagine my life without diapers.
My breath starts to quicken and tears fill my eyes because I can hear the graduation song and I can imagine the sound of the trunk closing, cars driving my babies away to their new lives.
Now I routinely tell myself, "This too shall pass — just don't let it pass you by."
"Childhood years are storage years — fill them intentionally with happy times."