Moms, you’ll miss these days

….when smashing bubble wrap, made everyone giggle.
….when a cut up, day-old donut, was a fancy crumpet.
….when a broken heart could be fixed with a hug and a kiss.
….when an ouchy could be healed with a kiss and a bandaid.
….when the sleeping baby on your chest would calm you.
….when a slight fever meant lots of snuggles on the couch.
….when a wiggly worm was the coolest thing ever.
….

I remember one really tiring month, when the boys had pink eye…they just kept sharing it, and I sat up in a rocking chair, rocking, rocking, rocking…night after night.

I remember another time, when one boy shared chicken pox with his 1 2 year old brother, and then we had stomach flu at the same time.

I remember days when milk spilled and mud was tracked in and there were fights and tears, and wondered why I was a mom.

And one of my older mom friends, whose girls were teens at the time, would tell me, “you will miss these days.” And I would laugh at her. You have to be kidding me. I won’t miss THESE days.

Then, my boys got older, into teenage years, and I missed THOSE earlier days, when worries were overdue library books, scratches on knees, eating their dinner, and being nice to their brothers. And I started to understand what my friend had told me.

Then, my boys became adults, with adult worries of their own, broken hearts, lost jobs, cars breaking down, rent due, big decisions and big consequences. And, I find myself, missing the days of snotty noses and blow-out diapers, and “he’s being mean to meeeeee.”

But, I don’t want to go back and relive it. I don’t miss being covered in puke, or cleaning it up off floors and walls. No. I don’t miss that. But, the feeling afterwards…with a boy, who at that moment, needed mom to fix it, make it better. And making it better, was as simple as snuggling on the couch or bringing a cup of ice chips. That is what I miss; the simplicity, the natural way I slowed down, when needed. A little boy’s arms around my waist, thanking me for making pancakes.

I miss the tenderness, sweetness, simplicity of the days when I had babies and little boys at home.

Your friend,
Anne Dovel - The Fit Quilter