I miss the days of simplicity and childhood play. I miss the days where my greatest concern was
how mine and my sister’s ginormous Barbie house would sprawl out, and who would
be the lucky one to get the “cute” guy Barbie (we pretty much never named him
Ken). I miss the days where the little
mommies growing in our hearts would pick out our children, and plan out grand
mischievous adventures with Barbie toddlers and babies.
I miss the days
of my youth; where I would spend afternoons reading Apologia Biology while
snuggling my cat on the couch in my pajamas.
(Perks of being home-schooled.) I
miss late nights chatting with my mom, and waking up late and grumpy until we
got that first swig of coffee. I miss my
father’s proud cheers urging me on as I stood to serve in a varsity volleyball
tournament, and the endless hours he spent sweating in the front lawn helping
me hone my skills.
And though I do not miss the heartache and feeling of
my world fragmenting like shredded paper, I will never forget the days of
discovery. The days where my sister
displayed some of the greatest tenderness I have ever known; always up for the
task of making me laugh, or escaping reality for a loud off-key mockery of
popular music in the car as we drove for coffee, food, and Target. I’ll always treasure the days I learned how
beautiful and loving her heart really is.
I'll always treasure those first days when my
husband and I had just met. All of those
long walks around the neighborhood, cliché sappy good morning texts, and my
periodic nervous giggling when he asked questions about the future. I miss the first time we held hands as we
explored Fox Island nature park, the first time he cooked me dinner, the first
time we said, “I love you,” with quiet voices and tender conviction.
I miss the days when our lives truly began together. When our marriage settled in and we started
arranging furniture and creating our home. I'll miss those awkward firsts of living in a foreign country, and trying to say hello and goodbye informally in German. Days filled with, “What do you want for dinner?” and “I asked you first.” I’ll always smile thinking of time spent memorizing
Ethan’s rock-paper-scissors pattern so that I would win and he’d have to take
the dog out. (I don’t miss when he quit
playing though. . .)
And then the day before my birthday when we found out
we were expecting our first child. I’ll
always cherish the first moment I felt him kick, the look on my husband’s face
as coached me through labor, and the teary eyed journey into motherhood as I
gazed at my son for the first time.
Now that Aiden is ten months old and crawling
everywhere, pulling himself up with ease, and disheveling everything, I miss
quiet afternoons spent nursing a cuddly newborn. I miss anxiously awaiting a smile, and the
soft expression that always graced Ethan’s face when Aiden fell asleep with his
head resting against his father’s chest.
Now that my husband is deployed, I miss the afternoons
I took for granted when we snuggled the day away binge watching Criminal
Minds. I smile reminiscing over Saturday’s
indulgence of unhealthy but delicious chicken nuggets and French fries that Ethan
spent hours preparing and frying without complaint. I miss watching him twirl our laughing son in
the air, even though it occasionally spiked my nerves into mini heart attacks.
And now that we’re expecting our second child, I worry
over whether I am ready to be a mom of two.
I struggle already with keeping up on household chores and taking care
of our hyper lab, Loki. And while some
days are spent playing outside and splashing water in the bathtub, other days I
wonder if I’m doing a good enough job. I
know God will grow my heart, but it’s hard trusting Him to grow my abilities.
It’s easy to remember “the good old days,” stress
about the present, worry over the future, and not fully appreciate the now; and
it’s often much harder trudging through mundane days with a smile. And, yes, many have written over the
importance of taking time to enjoy the present, but we need to take it a step
further. It’s not just about our own
mentality and happiness.
If we don’t choose to seek joy during the daily grind,
to find some small kernel of contentment, to brave a smile when we just want to
go back to bed- then how will our children ever be able to look back and miss
these days? Don’t wish for the past so
tightly or focus on worries months in advance so completely that you forget to
create an environment of play, of learning, of support, of friendship, of
laughter, of love.
It will be hard some days, and some days we will both fail. It’s our responsibility to create a safe
place for our kids to flourish, but it’s also up to us to create memories with them that are worth
keeping.
I hope as my son grows older and reflects on his
childhood, he can look back and say, “I miss those days.” I hope that my unborn
child will have a plethora of fond memories to reminisce over as an adult. I pray that the Lord will mold my husband and
I to be parents of patience, kindness, humility, humor, and love; and that
through His sweet grace, our home will become a happy place of memory and
laughter. A place to be missed.
What
things do you do intentionally to reap fond memories for your kids?
What
activities are you planning to create “firsts” for your children?
What
areas can you improve in while creating your beloved home?
“Unless the Lord builds the house, those who
build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord
watches over the city, the watchmen stays awake in vain. It is vain that you rise up early and go late
to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved
sleep. Behold, children are a heritage
from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward.”
Psalm
127:1-3 (ESV)
Lord, please help us build our homes.
Love,
Rachel
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