Dear Kids, I hate that I miss it…

Dear Kids,

Tonight, I cried. I cried because you’re getting so old so quickly. I cried because I’m not always good at being present and I’m afraid these magical moments are passing me by without me noticing. I hate that I miss it sometimes. I hate that I spend so many hours a day worrying and stressing and rushing. I hate that there are real (and imagined) things on my plate that demand so much of me. I hate that sometimes all I have are leftovers for you.

As I lay here with tears sliding down my cheeks, staring at the still dark, I think of you sleeping. I hope you know that though I lose myself often in the stress of the day to day, what I care about is you. 

I hope and pray you know that.

I miss it as I stress about my mile-long to do list. I miss it in the mess and meals and clutter. I miss it as I’m escaping for too many moments on my phone. I miss it when I’m rushing from this and hurrying to that. I miss it as I imagine that my pants are getting tight, or as I notice a few more lines creeping their way around my eyes. It seems like it all matters so much, but does it really? Not when I picture your face, your smile, and your bright eyes.

What I care about is you; it’s always been you. It’s always been you since the very first time I held you in my arms, and until my last breath. You are my dream, my heart, my reason. What I care about is that you feel cherished and championed. What I care about is that you feel safe with me always, and that you grow into a person who knows how to love and be loved.

I don’t care about how tight my pants are getting or if I look like a Golden Girl at the age of 33. I mean I do, but not really: not when I think about what’s most important. I don’t care if the house is a disaster and the dishes need to be done. I don’t care if I’m a successful writer, or if I’m popular or liked. I don’t care about those things; not really. At the end of the day, what I care about is you. 

As I lay here breathing in the stillness and holding you in my heart, I remind myself again to notice. I won’t be perfect at it; I know I won’t, but I pledge to soak in more of these days, because you are my greatest treasures.

I hope and pray you know that even though I miss it, even though sometimes I’m stressed, grumpy, and distracted, I hope you know that what I care about is you.

What I care about is you, and I always will.




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