Enjoy Each Season

It's been awhile. 

It's amazing how much time you think you have, but don't.  Or often how much time you do have, but don't use wisely. Which is my case.

I've found myself lately wishing for what I don't have, instead of being grateful for what I do.  I don't mean to do it.  It just happens. Which leads me to my latest motto that I am reminding myself daily...

ENJOY EACH SEASON. 

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.

Babies, Toddler, Children, Adults. 

Sleepless Nights, Crying, Nursing, Rocking Babies. 

Crawling, Walking, Talking, Running. 

School, Reading, Playing, Arguing. 

Growing, Growing, Growing, Growing. 

My babies are growing.  And I need to enjoy each season they are in.  I need to enjoy the right now. 

Why is it that when we are in the season of life that we are in currently, we look forward to the next step? I can't wait until she can feed herself.  I can't wait until she can buckle herself in.  I can't wait until she can read the book by herself.  I can't wait until I can just go out to dinner without kids. 

And then it comes. And then it goes.  And then I am left sobbing alone at night (husbands working night shifts cause a whole lot of emotional mind games) when I check on my "babies" and I remember that they are not "babies" anymore.  I don't want to wish that time away.  I don't want to go back either, I am excited to watch them grow, but I just want to enjoy now.  

Right now. 

I want to enjoy a messy house with kids running around everywhere.  I want to enjoy my kidless friends passive aggressively commenting on why there are crumbs constantly on my floor.  I want to enjoy a couch with sand on it because my daughter, still, day after day, won't take of her shoes outside to empty them. I want to enjoy dirty faces and silly screams at the dinner table.  I want to enjoy popsicles in the bathtub. I want to enjoy 30 minute play dates before bedtime. I want to enjoy being ridiculously tired at the end of every day and so incredibly overwhelmed by my children that I want to strangle them and at the same time snuggle them and never, ever let them go. 

Parenting. It's bittersweet.  It's really hard. And it's a crazy journey.  And it's the life we were given.  And I want to enjoy my season. 

My season. 

Of being a mom to two little girls. Of being a wife. A police wife. And a friend. And a daughter. And a sister. And a teacher.

 Of making mistakes and learning from them. Of watching my girls make mistakes and learn from them, too.   

Because I am wise enough to know, that when this particular season is over, which it will be in a blink of an eye, I am going to miss this season tremendously.  I am going to want it back.  I am going to know I am one season closer to having that clean house with no toys laying around everywhere.  With that all white Pottery Barn couch that I will buy one day. With no crumbs or sand on my floor. With no middle of the night crying that turn into snuggles.  With no kiddie belly laughs.  With no counting down the hours until bedtime and then finding the urge to wake them up 30 minutes later because you miss them. 

And I am not quite ready for that new season.

I am going to enjoy this season I was given. I am going to try not to compare my season of life to someone else's season of life. I may forget some days and I may need reminders here and there, but my next season will come when it's ready.  When I am ready.  When my family is ready. Until then, it's oreos, popcorn, coke, and a movie with my squad watching the latest Disney movie.

  

What's so bad about that season, right?