I don’t enjoy every moment, but I love every season.

They say you never get this time back, and I wish that wasn’t true. When I look through old pictures, my heart feels almost broken. I wish I could jump into that photo just for a second and hug that little body again.

My son is three inches shy of my height, but once upon a time he was a dream in my heart; once up on a time he was a baby on my hip. Once upon a time he was toddling around our coffee table making us gasp whenever we thought he might trip and fall on a corner.

They say to enjoy every moment, and I didn’t. I couldn’t. I didn’t enjoy every moment, but I loved the season.

I can picture him now holding onto my hand and carrying his tiny backpack full of Hot Wheels and spare change. It didn’t feel fast then. It felt like the days dragged into a thousand years and every day was a vortex of sleep deprivation and my own unmet needs. I just needed a break. I just needed a minute by myself to recover. I needed a stroll down a few aisles at Target or a drive alone blasting music that made me feel like I was out clubbing instead of driving a mom-mobile covered in Goldfish and petrified french fries.

I didn’t enjoy every moment, but I loved the season. God, I enjoyed being a mom of babies and toddlers. I enjoyed taking my little crew to the coffee shop and to the playground to play. I couldn’t wait for bedtime and I almost always felt guilty for not “playing” with them enough. I looked forward to that glass of wine like it was my only glimmer of hope on a long, grueling day. I complained when my husband got home from work, and nearly cried while I told him how overwhelmed I was. I fantasized about a kidless trip to Costa Rica and what I would do for just a night alone in a fancy hotel (actually any hotel would do).

I definitely didn’t enjoy every moment, but I loved the season.

I enjoyed the moments that surprised me with their preciousness. They were almost never planned; in fact, they came when I least expected. I’d be watching them play together and suddenly, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love. I’d be reading them books while they snuggled on my lap with their footie pajamas stretched out in front of them, and joy would wash over me like a warm wave. I didn’t enjoy every moment, but I was living my dream. The dream was hard and exhausting and it made me cry all the time…but it was my dream.

And now, just like that, my oldest is almost my height. He gives me a hard time about some burgers I made that tasted like a salt lick. He wears deodorant and his friends smell like they bathed in a half-bottle of cologne. We play competitive games that I don’t try and let him win (and he still wins anyway). I no longer worry about if he will sleep for his nap (pleasefortheloveofGod), or how to parent through his toddler tantrums. I no longer worry about weaning and the 5 cases of mastitis I gave myself (a little overeager, I think).

Now I worry about him sticking with good friends and being a leader, not a follower. Now I worry about him staying kind and keeping his soft heart intact. Now I hope and pray we will always be close and that he won’t ever stop coming over and putting his arm around me (even if it’s just to ask when we’re eating).

I don’t enjoy every moment. Sometimes when they’re all bickering, I just wish for 48 hours to run away and be by myself; but nonetheless I’m enjoying this season with my whole heart.

Last night he stood next to me in the kitchen and told me a story about his day. While he was talking, I had one of those moments. I had one of those moments of overwhelming gratitude for these precious days.

I don’t enjoy every moment, but I love the season.

God, I wouldn’t trade these days for anything.


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6 responses to “I don’t enjoy every moment, but I love every season.”

  1. Love this…thanks for putting into words what I often feel…

  2. That is probably where the term “imperfect perfect love” comes from sweet mama! You’re getting this! Love you….

  3. So incredibly sweet. The honest truth about mamas out there, just trying to make it through each. The love and exhaustion all mixed in one. I live with chronic pain, and the guilt that comes from not being ‘that mom’ that does all these fun things with their little ones, always hurts my heart. But I’m trying to do my best, my best with the circumstance I’ve been dealt with. Such sweet post, thank you for sharing! 😊💕

  4. This is truly what so very many moms go through and thank you for putting it in words. I myself had a situation this weekend that hit me like a ton of bricks when my son aged out of youth hockey and had his final game as a bantam. I didn’t see it coming and then all of a sudden I realized that he is old enough now (14) where the idea that “all good things come to an end” really is true, yet also, that HE at 14 is old enough and mature enough now to appreciate that and recognize how great memories and friends are made. In this case, I can say I enjoyed the “seasons”, all 10 of them thus far, and this season of his life as well, even if I cried 🙂

  5. I can’t tell you how little I soaked in the time of our kids childhoods. Now they are out on their own. I miss them so much! 😢 I wish I could read them stories again or the a t I would have prayed with them every night instead of hustling them to bed.

  6. I hear you Megan! My “baby” just played his last game of Varsity hockey on Tuesday! I cried when he moved from PeeWee then to Bantam, but I ugly cried after his very last game! You slog thru the practices, the games, the smelly equipment and then, suddenly, it’s all over, and you dont know where the time went. Enjoy the seasons. They change so quickly…

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