thoughts on my boy and his mother

About a month ago I wrote the following (in italics), with the intention of posting it.  Got distracted, never finished, but I'm going to post it anyway because tonight I think I can finish.

I'm sitting here at the computer in a quiet house.  My girls are asleep- I put them to bed an hour ago- and my boys are at the Cub Scout Blue and Gold banquet.  I kind of can't believe that's where they are. I remember being the Wolf den leader just a year ago in Oregon and having Steven and Nathaniel as brand new wolves.  Now I'm supposed to believe that my McKay is old enough to be a wolf?  Really? I can't.  He was so excited.  It really feels like yesterday that he was begging to come to cubs with me when I would go every Wednesday.  He wanted so much to be big enough.  And now he is.

We all learn how fast time really does go by when we become parents.  I'm guessing the longer you are a parent, the more you agree with that statement.  I am feeling it more lately.  McKay will be a second grader before I know it.  I remember when I was a second grader.  Sitting in short, yellow-haired, big-glasses Mrs. Spalding's class.

I'm so happy my kids are growing and healthy and I know they have to get older, but that's why I'm going to cherish these little things about them...the things that mean they are still little.

Like how McKay thinks Junie B. Jones is totally hilarious, or when he gets excited to read a picture book with me.

How he comes up with the idea at five 'o clock to invite whole families to dinner, and can't understand in the least bit why that isn't possible.

I love how he is eager to wear his pajamas on pajama day at school, and how he still will watch the preschool-aged shows that his sisters love.

I am soaking up the times when we walk to school together and he holds my hand the whole way down and listens intently to my stories.

I can't get enough of looking at the pictures he draws, and even reading his worksheets from school and imagining him at his table in the classroom, trying his best to fill in the blanks.

How his eyes sparkle with innocence and happiness, and his smile shows off that big giant tooth with dimples on the side.

I could almost cry when I think about cuddling up to him in his bed- him scooting over to make room for me- and reading and talking and snuggling right before it's time to turn out the light.

I am trying to consciously relish in this stage of life.  I know I will miss it.  Just the other day, as Layla was yell-singing at the top of her lungs in Target, a woman shook her head, laughed and told me how much she missed the experience I was having at that moment.  I know someday I'll do the same.  And that's why it's so important for me to write these feelings down.  Someday, I want to be able to look back and realize that I was trying my best to savor this time in my life.  I'm trying.  I am.

It isn't always easy to appreciate though.  Some days I feel like all I want in the world is a big career with a paycheck.  You know, actually getting paid for some kind of a skill that I have honed and can contribute.  Some days I feel like I'm really bad at the "career" I do have.  Some days I feel lonely in my role as mother-of-three.

But.

I do love my babies.  Oh, how I love them.  It hurts sometimes.  And I do love this time in my life.  It's not always easy- far from actually- but I love it and I know how important is to appreciate it and look for the great in it everyday.

I'm trying.  I am.