I remember it like it was yesterday. I was about to become a mom. I walked up to the front doors of the hospital knowing that when I walked away, my body would be my own again. Well, sortive.
Becoming a mom was a turning point in my life; one in which God truly transformed my mind. He gave me strength I never knew I had; a heart that had once been hardened; and the true understanding of what it really meant to love someone in the most purest of ways.
Four years later, my mini-me arrived. Figuring out that juggle was one that God still helps me with every day. Our family dynamic changed and where I once could cry from being separated for more than a few hours from my eldest baby, my heart now swelled from immense proportions at the thought of hearing my five year old ask his infant brother (whom was not even crawling yet) if he wanted to play with hot wheels together.
Ironic that now they are capable of full blown fights over the thought of who gets to play with a forgotten Furby and control of the wii controller. Still, I treasure the memories of a less-dramatic conversation between a big brother and his teething baby brother.
So what has me reminiscing tonight?
Now that I am stationed at the preschool that my youngest attends, sending him off into "big boy land" is not as traumatic as it was five years ago when it was his brother. I get to see him throughout the day, and if he is sick, out of almond milk, or even being disruptive, I know about it. Mommy to the rescue, or pep talk if he needs it. It's a far cry from the ball fest I had in the parking lot when his older brother entered preschool.
But in two weeks, this "beginning of the school year" will be the last of its kind. Why stress about the future? It's not so much a stress as an awareness. Aware that this first day of preschool will be replaced with a first day of kindergarten in a year. Aware that my now-fourth grader will be finishing out his elementary school stint and moving on to a land of lockers, seven periods, and girls in training bras.
So I reminisce, gladly.
If you have young children, you have probably heard about "how fast time goes," or "just wait until they go to college." So instead of traditionally nodding my head in agreement and wondering if my children with survive with me as their mom until they make it to age eighteen, I will stop.
Sawyer was born nine years ago. In nine years to come, we will be discussing the next stage of his life. Whether it is to go to college, trade school, become a missionary, or a race car driver like he aspires to do, he will always be the baby that changed my life.
I will remember the way he giggles when I tickle under his chin and arms. I will remember him dreaming of building a go-cart and entering it into a contest like he saw in the "Little Rascals." I will remember him asking Jesus into his heart, as we sat on the floor of an itty-bitty bathroom (and then asking me if he could walk on water like Jesus did, now that he was saved.) I will remember him ordering me to pull over the car to help a man on the side of the road with a sign (and offering to give the man his happy meal). His heart is pure gold, and he is a carbon copy of his daddy.
Paxton is 4 1/2. In 4.5 years, he will be the age that his brother is now. He will be going into the fourth grade, and will hopefully still be a goofy kid. His dreams may be unknown, but I will remember him as he is now.
He refuses to keep clothes on his body. He randomly wipes snot and licks people constantly. He is my little entertainer, and keeping him off a stage where his mommy or daddy are can only be accomplished with a bouncer. He will not sit still, and he has never finished a meal in his life; he grazes and then claims to starve all the time, especially when he is sleepy. He crawls into bed with mommy and daddy every night (usually between midnight and 5am...who knows?). His smile lights up a room. He is the funniest kid I have ever been around.
I will remember these things fondly, and thank God for giving me the chance to be their mommy.
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