Press Pause

Sometimes, I have to to press pause, stop, breathe and think about what I have right now.
I often go into the kid's rooms and all I see is a big mess. Toy's strewn everywhere, an unmade bed, dirty school socks on the floor (when I've told them a hundred times to put them in the wash basket!) I have to fight my way through the room, tripping over a Polly Pocket or a Astrix book just to make their beds.

Yet, I often find myself pressing pause and just looking around. Instead of a big mess, I see a sweet little imagination that has been at work. The way the toy's are arranged in such a way, you can see Polly was on her way to the shops or My son's train set sprawled across his floor, shows me he still appreciates real play, and not just the Wii or play station.

I get overcome by such a deep feeling of appreciation, that I can be their mother. That I am there, day after day, to be able to pick up their toy's, make their beds and see what other amazing things they are going to build. To watch them grow and change and blossom. I don't think there is quite another feeling like it in all the world.

I lost my mom when I was two. I grew up without that mother figure. While all my friends were coming to school with gorgeous french braids or talking about baking with their mom or having a "girls night" with just their mom, I never had that. Hitting puberty was the hardest, (fortunately I had an older sister to turn to for help.) Sometimes I worry I won't be there, that I will get sick and die (like my mom) and that my kids will have to grow up without me. It's not so much I worry about them without me, but I don't want to miss out on their lives. So I have to give myself pep talks about not thinking about "what if's" because they may not happen (at least hopefully,not for a long time).

They are with us,as children, for such a brief, sweet moment in time. I look at how quickly, every year just seems to zoom by and I find myself hitting the pause button more and more. Reminding myself that nothing matters except trying to be a great mom, a good friend to them and letting them stretch their wings. Letting them go, slowly...

Ever so hard, but ever so rewarding at the same time.
9 and 11...my kids now. I can't believe the time has gone so quickly already and already half their time with us is over. But I look forward to the other half. I know the second half might be more challenging, as they enter their teens, but I still promise to hit pause as often as I can...

to my children: I love you guys, with all my heart, I hope you know that.