One day, I'll get around to catching up on this blog. At least I kept Ladybug's story updated on her CaringBridge site, although there's a lot more "mommy perspective" I'd like to record here. Someday...
But for today, I need to get something off my heart and into words.
There's not enough time.
Seems ironic that I am taking the time to type that.
But it's clogging up my brain till I need to get my thoughts out, and then maybe I can come up with some solutions.
I'm not talking about just having time to do the dishes and laundry and sweep. I struggle with that. But there's so much more I want to do, and I feel like time is slipping through my fingers like sand.
My two girls are primed for learning. They are absorbing everything. Repeating everything I say. Picking up on things we say often without even realizing it. Learning songs. Memorizing. And I want to capture this time and sink truth deep into them so that it's always there. Verses, songs, principles of life. And I want them surrounded by beauty and order. And I want them to start making memories.
But at the end of the day, I look back and wonder, what did I do today? I survived. Barely. Three meals on the table, or at least on the high chair trays, a few tablespoons of pee in the toddler potty, a few more in the floor, a few books read, a few blocks stacked, many many many many many many many "stop, no, don't, be nice, be loving, leave your sister alone, let your brother sleep, gentle, don't pull hair, share" over and over...
And this is where I start wondering why I thought 3 children in less than 3 years was a good idea. Because this is it. This is the only chance I get. I don't get a do-over. I don't get to realize any mistakes and fix them for the next kid. I don't get to savor these little years. (Well, it just seems a lot harder.) They are flying by, and I'm going to blink and I'm going to have three elementary schoolers. And then heaven help me three teenagers. And then they'll be gone.
I'm doggy paddling. Holding my head above water, occasionally sinking under but then fighting my way back up for air. But that's not a fun way to swim. Just listen to Ladybug's screams from the community pool every night for the last two weeks during "Aquatots." But then there's Turkey's new found style of swimming: drifting. She floats with her little behind up in the air and has no control over her direction. She floats whichever way the current takes her. And I don't want to parent like that either, aimlessly being carried towards whichever focus is being talked about on the radio today.
What's the verse, something about redeeming the time? And then I read horrible news stories about children, sexting and being preyed upon by sick people, and I watch poorly behaved children and adults, and I wonder how in the world I'm supposed to train them right. I need 40 years, not 18. Holy cow.
I guess that's why we're commanded to teach when we lie down and rise up and walk along the road. That's the only way you have a hope of teaching them all they need to know.