“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.” ∼ Andy Bernard, The Office ∼
These are the days you’ll long for, Bethany.
I tell myself that often.
These are the days I will wish for again and again.
…the days where I am watching my baby boy peacefully sleep in my arms—not the days where I am seeing the tail lights of his vehicle as he drives away to college.
…the days where my sweet girl is gazing up at her daddy with adoration—not the days where she is staring at an unworthy (and they will ALL be unworthy) teenage boy with infatuation.
…the days where I am shielding my children from circumstances and situations that would hurt them—not the days where I am allowing them learn how to deal with the hard stuff of life through experience.
…the days where my kids are spending the majority of their time under our roof, always loved and always safe—not the days where they are living out in a world full of people who could harm them or people who will never love them the way we do.
…the days where my strong-willed babies are fighting us tooth and nail to go down for naps—not the days where they are arguing with us over curfews and boyfriends and girlfriends.
…the days where the hardest decision my children have to make is whether or not they like pureed peas—not the days where they are deciding whether or not to cave into peer pressure over something that could change the courses of their lives.
…the days where my babies think I am the most fascinating and hilarious person they’ve ever met—not the days where they think I am old and out of touch and dorky.
…the days that are long and hard because taking care of babies is physically demanding work—not the days that are long and hard because taking care of teenagers is emotionally demanding work.
…the days where my body aches from lack of sleep and from playing on the floor—not the days where my heart aches from watching my children face disappointment and tragedy.
…the days where I can peek in on my sleeping babies to make sure they are breathing and warm and comfortable—not the days where I can only pray to God that they are being wise and staying safe and making good decisions.
…the days that are messy and loud with diapers and toys littered everywhere across our living room—not the days that are well-ordered and decluttered with the spotless, quiet house of empty nesters.
Don’t get me wrong. I am excited to see my twins grow and change and create their own lives. I want them to. It’s supposed to happen that way. And one day, I will be excited to experience a new chapter of life with my husband. It will be thrilling and freeing in numerous ways.
But I will miss these little days once they are gone. Not because they were always easier…but because they were simpler…because they were sweet…because they were good.