The days are long. The years are short.
The days are long. This is true. Sometimes I count the hours down until bedtime because I am so exhausted. I count the hours down until nap time because it's a reset in my day. A moment of silence in this home. A moment of hearing myself think. Or maybe even just a moment to eat cookies and milk without little hands taking them all from me.
The days are long. This is true. Sometimes I wonder if I'm failing. How did God see me fit to raise up all of these humans? How did he see me fit to pass along his values, his words and his life? Why didn't he give me more patience, more grace? How come some days I feel like I am sinking in a fish bowl and other days like I am thriving in an ocean?
The days are long. This is true. Most days my floors can't be swept enough. I've wiped down the countertops more than they probably needed and the clothes just keep piling up. Toys are scattered out and about and no matter how hard I try, it's almost pointless to always go behind picking them up. But I do. And I do it again.
The days are long. This is true. Sometimes I have to find my grace. Sometimes I have to force myself to stay awake and pray because motherhood exhaustion sets in the second my head hits the pillow. I hear the sounds of prayers trailing off into the black hole of nowhere, but I hope that somewhere in my heart, Jesus hears what I was trying to say. Like a broken record that just keeps spinning without any purpose, yet the sounds are being heard over and over.
The days are long. This is true. Sometimes I wonder if I am enough. Am I doing enough? Why can't I find the strength to do more crafts together? Why can't I rise before the sun? Why can't I think of new things to cook? Am I letting exploring and wonder take over? Am I fueling imaginations and letting joy overflow?
The days are long. This is true. There is never enough time in the day. Never enough time to squeeze it all in. No matter how long the day may seem, there's still so much to be done. There's coloring pages that I never got to sit and color together. There's a puzzle we never put together because dinner had to be made. There's novels galore floating around this home, yet how come I can't pick one up more often?
The days are long. This is true.
But they will never be long enough to be with you.
The joys will always outweigh the hardships. Sure I may on occasion count down the hours until nap time, but what I am also counting down is the days until you turn five. Or the days until you turn just one, or twelve. I'll celebrate each birthday with a bittersweet heart; because I know that another year flown by. Another year has come and gone, and my moments with you will become memories dancing in the sunlight of yesterday. And my heart may ache just a tad the closer each new milestone gets.
Our moments of cuddling, laughing and dancing to your favorite songs will seem further away as each year passes by. I'll silently countdown the years and thank God for yet another year with you and then bask in joy at the person you are becoming, all while feeling my heart ache just a tad for the child you once were.
So while the days are long and the years are short, I'll always remember to embrace the LITTLE you. The YOU that you are now, the you that you were yesterday and the you that you tell me you'll become one day. And during these very short years that will pass us by in the blink of an eye, I'll watch you become who you're meant to be. I'll embrace each new year with a fresh start and I'll lock away the memories of the years before like a treasure chest overflowing at the brim.
And I hope that in the days of hardships and the years of not enough time, that we sit and color more. That we do those puzzles. That we run through the fields and bask in the sunlight and that the little you will enjoy the heck out of your childhood.
And I hope that I imprint these memories on my heart and leave the hardships at the door.
Because while yes, the days may be long. The years are oh so short.