I swear the last 24 hours were some of the scariest of my life. The doctor told me to come into the office because of some of my symptoms and when I was crazy enough to look on the internet for what it could be I did not like what I saw. I over exaggerated the situation in my head. Soon the possibilities engulfed my mind until I couldn’t think about anything else. I was terrified and was sure that I didn’t have very long to live. Silly I know and for those on the outside looking in I probably seemed like nothing short of a crazy person, but seriously I was convinced I was dying.
Waiting for the scheduled appointment seemed like years rather than a day. Time ticked by slower and slower. To pass time I took my boys to the Zoo, it’s one of our favorite places. I watched my boys run carefree and wondered over and over what would happen to them if something really did happen to me. My mind was all kinds of doomsday when all of the sudden something changed. I started reflecting on the past couple of weeks and remembering all of the times that I should have been more patient. I remembered the look on my 4 years old son’s face when I yelled at him for continuously asking me to play with him when I didn’t want to. I thought about walking into my baby’s room at 3 in the morning, tired and sick of him crying. I thought about how harshly I laid him back down and walked away. I knew that I wasn’t expected to be a perfect mom and that sometimes it’s okay to not want to play with my kids or be frustrated by the crying but in this moment I couldn’t help but wish that I can done things differently.
On the drive home my oldest son was rambling about all of the usual things. He talked about Pokemon, told me the difference between hawks and falcons and asked if someday I would take him to see a really honey badger. I listened intently and was amazed and how much he knew. I looked into my rear view mirror and saw a boy that is about to go into kindergarten instead of the baby that I had always seen. He was growing up and I had never taken a second to stop and notice.
My baby is needy.Overly needy. He needs to be held, played with and distracted at all times. He won’t even hold his own drink still and he’s 18 months. It’s been the bane of my existence for the last few months but this day I found myself wishing he would stop playing with his brother so that I could cuddle him. When he did find me and reached those little arms up, instead of anger or annoyance I felt a sense of purpose. Slugterra, which apparently is the cool show for boys these days didn’t sound so mind numbing in the background. The noise that I often times can’t seem to escape was calming for my soul because it was my life that I was hearing.
I watched my baby in his crib longer than normal as I laid him down because I wasn’t sure if I would always get to have that view. I laid in my bed and scrolled through pictures in my phone of my family and was so grateful that in those moments I had the right of mind to take them and I found myself wishing I would have taken more. My husband came home and the feeling of love and the desire to take care of him and make him happy was overwhelming. I hugged him and held on longer instead of giving the quick hug and returning to my laundry. I laid in bed watching him do his homework and thought about just how hard he works. I wished that I would have been better at telling him how grateful I was and how much I appreciated what he did for our family. I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
Needless to say I’m blessed that there isn’t anything wrong with me that can’t be fixed. My heart breaks when I realize that there are those sweet moms out there that have had an end date placed on their life but the reality is that while some might be blessed with more time, it isn’t much time. Every day our children are a little bit older. Each passing hour they learn a little bit more. They are human with real frustrations and feelings that may not seem important to us but to their little minds it is. Their tears are sadness, pain and frustration just like ours. Sick or not, that view, the one of my child sleeping, it isn’t going to last forever. Someday my children will be grown and I’ll miss the sound of their tiny footsteps coming down the hall. The silence will need to be filled with the TV even if I’m not really watching it.
I don’t want my children to stay little forever because each day that they grow is another day that they get to live and learn and love. But now that I’ve self diagnosed myself and created and overwhelming sense of fear that I might not see those days, I’ve held my children tighter. I’ve kissed my husband longer.I have the desire to do exhausting things with my children that they will look back and remember. I’ve decided that someday my time might be cut short and I don’t want to feel like I did this time. I don’t want to regret as much or wish I had done things differently. Am I going to lose my temper? Absolutely. Am I going to go for a run and then come home and binge eat the left over cake in the fridge? Yes. Probably tomorrow. Am I going to be frustrated with my spouse? Often. But maybe with the knowledge that this life is a short one, regardless of whether it ends at 24 or 105 I can decide to yell less and hug more. I can choose to be happily married instead of being right. I can want to be anxiously engaged or to not be involved. So while the days might seem long and the weeks might seem endless I don’t have much time left and neither do you. We might as well fill it with love, forgiveness, happiness, laughter and more. So stop reading and go kiss someone you love. Now.