I have been pondering lately on how different motherhood looks for me now than it did eight years ago when I started this blog. Back in 2008 I posted a quote that said:
"Having children is a lot of work. And we have to not be afraid of that, because it's that very element of working hard and being willing to do whatever it takes that makes us who we are. It's the sacrifice that makes us who we are. I want to bear my testimony of the joy that comes from having families, from having children, because there's not only the commandment of the Lord to do it, but there are great promised blessings."
Cheryl C. Lant, General Primary
President
I remember what the worked looked like back in those days. I used to make a big deal out of all the holidays. We would have green pancakes every St. Patrick's Day, big creative birthday bashes, make crafts and display them to make things festive. We would visit the library for story time regularly, were frequent visitors at the children't museum, played at parks, had friends over, read mountains of books, and had tea parties. Motherhood looks different these days.
Now I am managing the schedules of three teenagers, homeschooling, driving endless miles from seminary drop-off and pickups to babysitting jobs and dropping off dinner to a hungry daughter at her job because she forgot to bring one--again. I'm teaching how to write great essays, divide fractions, plan teen movie nights, and stay up late after dances and dates looking forward to my girls crawling onto my bed and talking and laughing about it together. We've gone through the anxiety of teaching a teenager to drive and am embarking on that journey yet again right now--with a little less paranoia. We've handled friend crises, enrolled in community college, signed up for ACT's and embarked on 4-H projects and road trips. And in the midst of all this moving forward, I have to pause and look back because in the process of growing with older teenagers, I'm still rearing little ones, too.
I knew for sure things had changed when tonight Jimmy was taking L and T shopping and leaving me home alone with the two and four-year-old. "Wait!" I protested. "Are you leaving me alone with these two?" I asked with trepidation as the little kids climbed onto the counter top to watch me as I made pizzas for dinner. But as soon as I said it, I felt--something--well up inside me and scolded myself. I used to do this all the time! I chided. So why is it so hard now?
Somewhere along the line I got used to the help of the Big Kids. They are wonderful! They have babysat, entertained, taught, read to, and played with their baby siblings from the very beginning. They've changed diapers, fixed meals, cleaned house, bandaged boo-boos, and potty trained. Because I don't have to do it all with the little ones anymore, I'm reminded how difficult those early days of mothering really were when all the kids were little, and I feel more grateful than ever to have the extra help.
But I realized during my moment-long panic attack about being left alone with the youngest two children that I need to go back in time to live in the present a little bit better. I need to take a step back from the Big Kids and their fast-paced life and stoop down to the level of the Little Ones more often. So I gathered up those smudge-faced little ones and let them scoot a little closer on the counter to help with dinner. I remembered how much H, M, and L used to love helping in the kitchen back before our lives sped forward too quickly. And it turns out, B and K love it, too. The smiles on their faces as they helped sprinkle the cheese and chop the olives were exactly as wonderful as their Big Siblings'. I gave them a high-five after we cleaned up and gave myself a little one, too. Because even though motherhood looks different these days, sharing a moment and making a memory with your children still feels the same as it always has--wonderful.