Do you ever look at the pictures stored on your phone to pass the time? I came across videos and pictures from just a few months ago and my kids looked a lot younger.
I try really hard to put my phone down and live in the moment, but at times like this, I always wish I had taken more.
Here at the beginning of a new year when it seems like everyone and their dog has already wildly succeeded at their goals, I find myself at yet another crossroads on what to do with the rest of my life.
I’ve felt like I shouldn’t take too big of a plunge career-wise until both kids are in school. So I take baby steps to try and accomplish goals, but lose momentum in the slow process. It’s hard to plan around a toddler and childcare.
I sometimes find myself staring out the window, feeling sorry for myself and trapped without a lot of wiggle room.
My friend Becca just wrote about how one of her sons turned 12, and he didn’t need her like he used to. And how he doesn’t want to sleep in her bed anymore, and wants to keep more to himself these days when he used to talk a mile a minute about everything.
And that really got me.
She spoke about how she also used to play the wishing game. Wishing they were older, wishing they could do more for themselves. How incredibly familiar that sounds.
I’ll be happier when…. I always end up back in that trap.
Contentment is tricky. Just when I think I’ve got it… I don’t.
So I’m thinking that maybe just for today I can shift my focus. Maybe I can stamp out the possibility of being so focused on greener pastures elsewhere that I’m missing my toddler looking straight up at me, into my face.
Maybe just for today I can remember that his childhood is happening right here in front of me. And it will soon be gone.
Maybe just for today I can let him wear pajamas and a cape well past lunchtime.
Maybe just for today my biggest dilemma can be whether or not to even bother giving him the two slices of bread that make up the sandwich that he only eats 30% of the time-before picking out and eating only the innards.
Maybe I’ll just let him do that and make a mess.
Maybe just for today, blog stats and pitches and rejections and edits and shares and likes and comments and rejected job applications don’t matter, only the jibberish and two word phrases that come from his sweet little face.
Maybe just for today, I can overlook kitchen chairs pushed to counters, and really watch him enjoy the water play that he finds so fascinating in the bathtub and every sink in the house.
Maybe just for today, I can treasure the pitter patter of little feet at 2am as he gets out of his big boy bed again… and again.
Maybe just for today, I can treasure the sweet, quiet snuggles when I get up to administer fever meds at 5am.
Maybe just for today, I can see what I’ve accomplished so far in raising good loving human beings, and know that maybe personal sometimes trumps professional.
And maybe just for today, I won’t feel like I have to whisper “I’ll be a better mom tomorrow” along with bedtime hugs, kisses and I love you’s.