Two Saturdays ago Pete brought Evie into our bedroom around 7 in the morning. On the days he is home, he takes care of our early risers and usually let’s me sleep in. By seven he’s been up at least an hour (!?). Yea, I don’t get it either… but, it’s a very nice treat to say the least :) He brought her in a little early that day because soon we’d be on our way to San Antonio. He put E onto the bed and she hustled toward me, smiles and all. She found me right at the edge of the blanket, just waking up. She rested her head down on my chest, sort of hugging me and would look up, smile and then do this hugging me thing all over again. It was the SWEETEST. I hope I never forget that moment.
Later that morning we were scurrying along, changing diapers, packing last minute items. I think the nostalgia was getting to me, because in less than an hour I’d be parting from my babies for a weekend. I know it was nostalgia, because I wanted to cry thinking of it. But it really is such a privilege to do this. To get to be the mom in their lives. To raise them. Read to them. Teach them about this world. Teach them about the love of God, but how could I ever do this justice? Being the mom terrifies me but lately it has been weighing on my heart on how much of a privilege it is to get to watch them discover the world, become the people they were created to be, take interests, make friends, stumble with failure and heartbreak, piece their world back together again. All of it.
Sometimes being a stay-at-home mama gets lonely, I won’t lie. Most nights I fall over exhausted after a long day with most of my “to do” list still on the counter, some days completely forgotten about. I turn in earlier these days, mostly because I’m not 21 anymore and my body demands sleep, or claims insanity the next morning. There is also this insane list that doesn’t even ever get written down. The list of things I’d like to try, or paint, or draw. Create.
But for now at least, I’m trading most of that in. Pieces, crumbs, messes, slobbery kisses and hugs that feel more like a three year old boy tackling you, shoes lost somewhere behind the couch and hysteria over the one toy both kiddos can’t seem to be able to live without. But woven through all of that chaos are memories that make me want to go and kiss that blonde headed little baby girl hours after she’s turned in and laugh thinking about the crazy things Joseph came up with that particular day.
I feel a lot of peace over a lot of the work I’ve let go last year. And I know there will be a day, too soon I’m sure of it – that I’ll have more free time than I know what to do with, for a while at least. Until then I’ll squeeze in my art sessions during naps and write before the sun rises and babies wake.
Life is short. And this part of it is just a privilege. There’s no other word that sums it up better.
This past week, Evelyn took her first real steps, while holding a sippy cup with homemade sherbet ice cream AND also had her first pig tails (which of course didn’t last longer than five minutes…;).
A few months after I finished college I found myself searching for a job in the art world. I turned down a job for teaching because I knew right out of college, teaching was not my passion. I had a handful of interviews, and even a few offers. Pete and I had just come back from NYC and art history was pumping through my veins. I felt driven, inspired more than ever to just dive in. I found a little art gallery in the Galleria, who at the time offered me a position. It was full time and part of the job requirement (really loose word, obviously) was four paid trips to NYC a year. The only problem with the job was the shift. I’d never see Pete. Like, ever. Maybe Sundays. At the time he was working seven days a week, twelve hour shifts with the exception of Sundays, and our marriage was so, so new. I knew it would never work. I think back to that decision to let that position go. It could have led to a lot of things I thought I wanted in life, so badly. But at the heart I think I’ve always known that THIS is what I wanted, moments that money or even new horizons can’t buy.