We get up, go to work, come home, fix dinner, pack lunchboxes, do homework, bathe kids, get them in bed… all before we can go to bed ourselves. And just when we get to bed, lay down… snuggle under the covers and push the thoughts and reminders running through our minds to the side… we finally drift off to sleep.
Until…. our motherly instincts wake us up when the pitter patter of little feet come running down the hallway to our bedside.
“Yes Brady… what’s wrong?”
“I want you.”
Famous words from a toddler.
And as he climbs in bed and wedges his tiny body between us, I say, “I want you too Brady. I always want you.”
Even when it’s 2 AM and I can barely open my eyes. Even when you kick us in the side all night long and I have about 2 cm of space to sleep on the very edge of the bed. I still want you.
I want you now and tomorrow and ten years from now when you’re 13 and don’t care about me anymore. At least on the outside.
I will want you when you hit your first homerun. I will want you when you get your first girlfriend. I will want you when you drive your first truck and when you graduate high school.
I will want you when you find a woman who is worthy of you and you decide to give our family name away to her. I will still want you.
I will always want you to be my baby. And you will always be my baby.
We give this away. We are exhausted, and stressed… we live the day to day without giving any extra thought to the fact that time does not stand still. We pray for bedtime to hurry. We pray for them to fall asleep sooner. And we naturally wish the days away.
But… every now and then… we get a subtle reminder that we don’t always want it to be bedtime… we don’t always want them to be able to walk so we don’t have to tote them anymore… we don’t always want them to be able to eat on their own so they won’t nurse 24/7…. we don’t always want them to sleep in their own bed (especially at 2 AM)…
These reminders… they are the sweet part of life. They snap us back to reality. We then realize for a split second that time doesn’t slow down. Our kids won’t be babies forever. And we hold them tighter… for just a little bit.