Hold Tight, Mamas

Ezra let me rock him to sleep tonight.  We haven't done that in months.  I really do miss it.  He was exhausted from not napping, and I have to take advantage when I can.  Listening to his sweet little snores as his head rested against my chest--ahhhh, crazy, sweet, amazing mommy bliss.  Yesssss, indeed.

Mamas, don't wish it away.  I know there are tough days.  I know there are long nights.  I know there are days you want to run to away, but you can only find one Dansko, so you're stomping around the house in one shoe, grumbling about running away and accusing your husband of hiding your other shoe, while everyone, including you, tries not to laugh (wait, that might've been me....).  There might be days you beg your husband to bring home wine, and he's smart enough to bring flowers, too.  It's okay, we won't talk about the evenings you meet him the driveway when he gets home from work, barely saying goodbye as he says hello.

But please, mamas, don't wish it away.  Take it from a mama of a 16 year old, 7 year old and an almost 2 year old: You're going to miss this.  You will. I already do.  There are days I'm not ready to let go of the one who thinks he has one foot out the door, even as he still clings tight to me.

So, let me help you pick your Cheerio-encrusted self up off the floor and give you a hug.  I'll even pick the Cheerios out of your hair, and sweep the rest of them up while I hold your baby.  It's not the end of the world, just a bad day.  Curl into those snuggles, laugh at the silly sound of new runners as they pitter patter across the floor.   Laugh with the outrageous immaturity of the older ones, and smile when they get the maturity 'right.'

It's all gone too soon, mamas.  Hold tight.