Dear Future Mama,
Why hello there... how are you old friend? Chances are pretty good that a lot has changed since you penned this post. And Lord willing, I sure hope those changes include the growing up of three young girls into vibrant and healthy young women. Young women with purpose, with strength, with grace, with joy. Young women that make you so humbly full of pride that you could burst.
That is when you're not crying because... mercy me,
young women.
You used to lament about it often. How fast they were growing, how you just couldn't believe they were turning such and such an age, how it seemed like just yesterday they were being born all pink and new and tiny and full of promise.
But truth was, sometimes those days felt a little long. All that changing of the diapers, quieting of the whines, redirecting of the attitudes, sweeping of the floors, waiting of the daddy to get home from how hard he worked while away from you.
But the truth is that it was the blink of an eye, wasn't it? And you'd do just about anything right now to get it back. No "me" time, no long uninterrupted showers, no girls' nights out, no using the toilet without an audience could stop you from giving it all up again to get back one day.
Just one day back of their littleness.
How they used to laugh at the top of their lungs and talk (and talk and talk), how they used to fire questions at ninety miles an hour, how they used to request so many stories that you thought for sure you would go hoarse with laryngitis. Hope never could go without being a part of every conversation, interjecting an "excuse me" every 2.56 seconds. And Maddie wanted so badly to keep up with big sister that between the ages of two and four, I'm not sure you and Joe ever had a full conversation until well after 9 pm. I venture to guess it's too quiet now for your liking and that you two might be wishing there were interrupting little voices to drive you a bit bonkers and to make you laugh all at the same time.
Remember stumbling upon all manner of mess... small tidal waves of water by the sinks or the dog's dish, toilet paper rolls unfurled with such gusto, crackers strewn from here to there because someone just had to go and leave the pantry door cracked again? Oh the outfit changes that can happen in a home with three wee girls. Hope in her animal costumes, Maddie in all manner of accessory, Alysse sporting bib number 132 for the week. A pile of laundry to reflect all the art projects, snack making, sand box playing, and adventure there was to be had. Are you longing for a laundry date night... you, Joe, a movie, and a mound of itty bitty shirts and socks and pants and sundresses? Oh the sundresses, those were the best. Cause sundresses meant twirling.
And there still is nothing sweeter than little girls barefoot and twirling to their heart's delight.
I'm writing you today because, lucky for you, it is still just that... today. A day where you can snuggle Alysse close, soak up the purity of her smiles, and drink in the smell of her head. Rejoice when she wakes up in the middle of the night and needs what only you can give her. Savor what's left of these infant months where all she wants is to be cuddled and fed and changed and held and held and held. Because, as you already know, it only stays that uncomplicated for such a short period of time.
A day where you can laugh inside when Maddie has a two year old moment, when telling her that no she may not have popsicle before dinner drives her to make the saddest fit you've ever seen. Hope that soon after you put her to bed you hear the squeak of her bedroom door only to find that angelic voice asking, "Can we wock just for a wittle minute?" Hold her longer than you think you should. Play her favorite song over and over again just to watch her jump and giggle and twirl until she falls into a heap of blond peach fuzz. Say yes to going outside past dark and trying on the seventy fifth pair of shoes and even that popsicle from time to time.
A day where Hope doesn't want to be separated from you for more than a few minutes, and if she is then she comes back out of her room again and again while explaining, "It's just because I love you, Mom!" Laugh deeply at how excited she gets over things, play explorer in the backyard until you barely make out each other's figures from the moonlight, delight in how much she loves to hear stories. Read, while holding hands, until you lose your voice. Let her help you make whatever she wants and pay no attention when more of it spills on the floor than goes in your meal. Paint the afternoon away, camp out at the library, nap together while you have to blow the fluff of that lion's mane out of your face. Be amazed at the questions and thoughts that come from her three year old heart and mind.
Hold their little hands and drop the broom, whisper in their small ears and leave the phone unanswered, run through the yard and let the grass stains take care of themselves.
Cause today?
It's some kind of wonderful, now isn't it?
~Katrina
And other times, especially this summer, that means we're getting every last nickel and dime out of our summer membership to the new local Children's Museum.
In a lovely shade of ducky yellow, as you can see.
