The post You’ll Find Me In The Rainbow first appeared on A Family Inspired.

The post You’ll Find Me In The Rainbow appeared first on A Family Inspired.

The post BORN first appeared on A Family Inspired.

The post BORN appeared first on A Family Inspired.

The post A Poem On Having Daughters After Sons first appeared on A Family Inspired.

The post A Poem On Having Daughters After Sons appeared first on A Family Inspired.

The post Let Her Burn first appeared on A Family Inspired.

The post Let Her Burn appeared first on A Family Inspired.

The sun has fallen,
My mind has, too.
The day was long,
We’re almost through.

Teeth are clean,
Bellies fed,
PJs on,
And stories read.

I rise to leave
And then I hear it.
“Can you stay
Just one more minute?”

And so it goes,
Just one more snuggle.
One more book.
And one more cuddle.

And as my body
Aches to flee,
I picture a future
Where the one asking
Is me.

I imagine a day
Either normal, or tragic,
Where I’m the one pleading
For one more minute of magic.

One more hug, one more kiss.
One more smell of their skin.
Just one fleeting second,
To do it again.

What wouldn’t I give,
Once the pleas have passed,
To come back to this moment
And hear them ask?

And so I stay
for just “one more.”
Which is never one,
and always more.

The post Just One More? first appeared on A Family Inspired.

The post Just One More? appeared first on A Family Inspired.

Not necessarily the newborn days but simply, the days before today. The days when something (newborn snuggles, diapers, light-up sneakers,) was every day, and then, without warning, was never again.

So when you see me on bended knee negotiating with my toddler with a baby strapped to my chest, or pushing a rickety shopping cart while frantically doling out snacks, your voice says “it goes so fast” but my heart hears,

“I have been there, it was hard… I miss it.”

I am like the Facebook memory tugging your heart back to the days before today. The faces of my children may not perfectly resemble yours but their innocence, tears, and giggles do.  

When you say “blink and you will miss it,” “my daughter is graduating from college this week,” “savor these moments,”  what I hear is “these days don’t last, I wish I could go back if only for a moment.”

I hear this because while you see yourself in me, I already see myself in you. My oldest child is only three years old but I find myself wanting to blurt these words to other mothers every day. You are seeing me in the same rearview mirror I sometimes look through. Even with so much still ahead of me, I get caught looking backward.

I overhear a hopeful mother in the coffee shop. And I remember the journey, the needles, the prayers for a positive pregnancy test, the absolute beginning. Every first kick and smile just waiting to be discovered. And without speaking, I think,

“I have been there. It was hard.” And even, tucked in a tiny corner of my heart, “I miss it.”

I hear a newborn crying in Target. A cry so distinct, it is likely the mother is not fully healed from delivery, yet she just had to get out of the house. I see her shushing her newborn while fumbling with a nursing cover. I remember the days when this brand new life requires every last drop of you, a reality that offers both joy and hardship. And while I can relate to the overwhelmedness that threatens to suffocate her, I want to whisper,

“I have been there. It was hard…I miss it.”

I see a mama resting one hand on a burgeoning belly while juggling a toddler, sippy cup, and dinosaur with the other. And I remember the days of holding one sweet boy in my arms and the other in my belly. Somehow dedicating my outer body to one child and my inner to his brother. And when I see her, I can’t help but think,

“I have been there, it was hard…I miss it.”

So when you tell me “it goes so fast,” I hear what you are really saying. Because while my today is your yesterday, I already see it as another mother’s tomorrow.

I know that your lenses are not colored by roses, but by motherhood. And while you do remember the challenges, the joys are more vibrant, the wonder of those moments, more clear, and you are trying to help me capture it. Because just like those newborn snuggles, once they are gone, they don’t come back.

As the saying goes, babies don’t keep. We can’t freeze time, we can’t turn back the clock. So when you see me in your old shoes, you say what you can. The four words that you desperately hope will convey that these days – that feel like years – will slip right through my fingers.

But don’t worry. Whether I’m belly laughing with my boys or breaking a sweat managing a parking lot tantrum, I know that these moments are magic in its purest form. And I, too, know that I will wake up tomorrow missing today.

Because, it really does go so fast.

The post To The Mother Telling Me “It Goes So Fast,” I Hear What You Are Really Saying first appeared on A Family Inspired.

The post To The Mother Telling Me “It Goes So Fast,” I Hear What You Are Really Saying appeared first on A Family Inspired.