I'm Not Ready

A year ago was when I last wrote another post.  Just like this one.

We’re deep into the throes of another school year.  Backpacks, homework, sports, buses.  Papers and more papers.

I’m not ready for this.  Not for school to start, or to process the fact that my oldest by birth is now a high schooler. 

I’m not ready to let go of summer.  I’m not ready to see young adults in place of children.

I’m just…not…ready. 

When I look at my kids I know that I am blessed.  God gave me a gorgeous family.  I am just so proud of them, my heart wells up with unshed tears, I can’t even begin to explain how much I love them and how thankful I am that they are mine.  Yes, there are times they drive me absolutely insane.  Moments that I want to tear my hair out, or hide in the nearest closet with a bar of chocolate and a set of headphones just to escape the madness.  There are a lot of young people who depend on me to help raise them.  Sometimes it can become overwhelming, difficult, scary even.

But the alternative is unthinkable.  The thought I might go through life not knowing these beautiful people, not hearing them call me mom (or mommy, or mother, or Mindi) takes my breath away.  Because I do know them, I do love them, and I am so glad that I do.

Making the decision to share my life (or give up my life) for kids is not one that I will ever regret.

But I feel the moments slipping through my grasp like rainwater.  Each time I look up, they’re older.  Bigger.  More beautiful or handsome.  And the face that stares back at me in the mirror?  Unrecognizable.  Because once you start the journey of motherhood, it’s not about you anymore.  The face that you see reflecting back at you ages overnight, until you feel you’re looking at a stranger.  Having kids seems to speed time up until the months feel like days.  One day, you look up and summer starts the next week.  When the next week comes, summer is already over. 

To be honest, I’m stumbling through this job called motherhood.  I don’t have it all together or even partly together.  I’m not organized, and generally don’t know what we’re going to have for dinner when I get home from work.  Laundry is piled into baskets upon baskets.  With cross-country season here, there simply isn’t time.  I make mistakes constantly and it’s a struggle just to know what to do each day.  I will never be the mom who sleeps well at night because everything is tidy and taken care of.  it’s just not who I am.  When I go to bed, the movie reel of what I didn’t get done that day is forever playing in my mind.

But God gave me this monumental task, He chose me to be a Mom.  Something I will always and forever be grateful for.  Though most days I feel I’m not up to par God obviously feels otherwise.  And I won’t let Him down. 

I love them all.  Each and every one of them.  They are a blessing in this chaotic world, miniature humans that grow up before you can take a breath.  They’re challenging, argumentative, rambunctious, fearless.

And they’re mine.    

I might not be ready for things to change, for life to move on, for kids to grow up.

But I don’t think anyone ever is ready for change.  That’s why it seems to happen overnight, when you’re not really looking.  You see a picture you took that morning, a snapshot in time.  A stilled moment when the kids all look at you, expectantly waiting for what lies ahead of them after they board that school bus.

You see that picture and pull in a hard, harsh breath at how old everyone looks.  How grown up.

Then you get lost in the chaos of life, the routine of schools and lunches and homework and sports.  

And knowing how fleeting these moments really are?

You hold onto those moments, and the kids, just a little bit tighter.