Abundance #6

Abundance #6

There was a young mother at Trader Joe’s today with her whining, intermittently screaming toddler next to her. On her front, she wore a new baby who was, at least temporarily, sleeping. She sheepishly glanced at me and I smiled broadly. Her eyes shot to the ground and I was transported to a time very recently when I was very much like that mother. I remember the seemingly ceaseless corrections of behavior, the mid-shopping trip dart to the bathroom, and the explosive diapers from the infant who was tethered to my chest.

It was over a decade I was either attached to a baby through a breast or an umbilical cord. The ensuing preschool years were wonderful yet left me with a rattled interior that I think most moms might agree is a paradoxical mix of post-traumatic stress and Disneyland-like euphoria. In retrospect I wonder why I was so stressed out. I wonder why I felt I would never get through each of my children’s toddlerhood. It was really just a blur.

There I stood in Trader Joe’s and stared at that mom and thought, “Her babies are so cute, and that time goes so fast.” My heart sank and I realized I was one of those moms. A woman I swore I would never be, an older woman cautioning a young, exhausted, borderline deranged mom that, “It goes so fast, enjoy it now.” And the crazy part is, I really thought I was enjoying the time. Yet, it was swept away.

So, there in Trader Joe’s, I thought of the difficulty I had this morning with one of my older kiddos and I wondered if this pattern of fretful thinking and motherly exhaustion will ever cease. The unending concern for raising children seems to make life slow down but then you wake up one day and realize that those babies who you checked for breathing in the middle of the night are actually getting pretty close to driving or going to college or having children of their own!

That is when I stopped and realized that as time passes it is even more important for me to try to be present and appreciate the abundance of each of my children’s existences even if time seems to slip by without any notice of my motherly emotional state. Perhaps more importantly, I need to mother myself and absolve my guilt for not scrapbooking ever moment or in all honesty wishing that certain developmental stages would come to an end.

My deep hope is that the love that I have for my children and for myself will be enough. That I won’t have many regrets and that I will be able to cherish the memories I have of my kids’ childhood.

Time is not abundant but I believe love can be.