It was the first night our second son slept upstairs in his own bedroom.
The house was loud, with the sound of the dryer spinning clothes I washed at 11pm, since I could not go to sleep as he sobbed.
Finally, a hush from the little monitor on my side of the bed. It was just me and my husband in the room we shared with our youngest for the first 11 months and 2 weeks of his life.
No more winding up in our bed, no more soft breath in my ear, no more snuggled up heavy on my arm. No more of his baby feet kicks I first felt months prior to his birth.
Just the sound of the dryer spinning.
I tell my husband this is what it will feel like. The day they first sleep over with family, the day they leave for college, the day they’re gone from our shelter, our walls.
I’ve heard it said that a Father and Mother are forever, but parenting is only temporary. God is allowing us only so much time to teach, prepare and enjoy this age.
One day, they will be released to the work they are training for.
Less dependence on us, more dependence on Him.
Only almost 1 and 2 now, but I sense it will still feel like just yesterday they were waking us up to cuddle and soothe.
I want to soak it up and savor. Before they fly the nest we are building today.
Milestones. They are magical. And heavy.
Joy in the new, in their advancing thoughts and abilities, yet sentimental in that it will never be as it was again.
I listen to the hands on the clock turn and echo from his room. I know it is passing, and if I do not slow down each day, I will miss it.
Slow. Soak. Savor.
Today, a gift. The now, all we need. If we would only fully live in the now.
And so today, I will not weep for what has passed. I will give thanks for the memories made, moments to treasure. I will hug the man back who helped make me their mother and love him mightily, knowing those little boys I love so much are a gift I share with him.
I will wake up in anticipation of the heroes we’ll be, trains we’ll conduct, heights we’ll soar on our imaginary wings, and I will be lifted higher.
Let’s fly, little buddies.
One day, you will fly.
And we may be the ones sobbing. Happy tears over the nest we’ve built.
“When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things” – (I Cor.13:11).
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