One day…

One day there won’t be matchbox cars lined up across my entire sofa.

One day tupperware won’t be pulled out of the drawers and scattered across my kitchen floor.

One day no one will need me to calm them back to sleep just when I am sitting down to relax.

One day I won’t read countless Sandra Boynton books at bedtime until I can read them with my eyes closed.

One day no one will want me to kiss their owies.

One day the program of choice will not be Elmo.

One day no one will ask me to take them out in the freezing cold to admire the moon.

One day I won’t struggle to carry two children in my arms as I walk through the Fred Meyer parking lot.

One day I won’t have to wrestle anyone to the floor so I can put on their shoes.

One day no one will use my purse to transport trucks from one place to the next.

One day my clothes won’t be stretched out from little hand tugging and yanking at them.

One day no one will yell “BUS!” or “DIGGER!” while we are driving in the car.

One day no one will need me to rock them to sleep as they drift off, head pressed against my chest.

I don’t write this in a sad place tonight, even though it seems sad. Today was a rough day, as currently many are. No one  really napped, my boys were sick and cranky, and I. felt. tired. I write this in a place , reminding myself, that this time of my life will not last. And even though it is so so so hard, it is also so so so beautiful. I love my boys, they amaze me every day. And even though I can’t wait to watch them grow into each stage of life, I also want to freeze them just the way they are. Gilbert’s laugh. Benjamin’s enthusiasm. The way they snuggle each other for brief moments. The love I have for them makes me ache. So even though things like cars all over my floor and pinning someone to the floor just to put their pants on, drives me crazy, I also know I will be sad when that is all over.

I was listening to the song Spanish Harlem and trying to figure out the meaning of it. I think, it speaks to the beauty of the grit and dirt in life. So, even though life feels gritty and exhausting and tomorrow when no one is napping and I scoff at this post, I can say now, it’s all beautiful. The tantrums, the spit-up, the dirty diapers. It’s beautiful because it’s my sweet, sweet boys, who I couldn’t imagine life without.


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