This post was originally published with a different introduction on April 6, 2008, when my kindergartener was only two (check out the picture below!). It was part of the March/April 2008 Group Writing Project, with the theme “Savoring the season.”
This week I was reading All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience by Neal A. Maxwell (man, I miss him!), and I came across an interesting concept. “Time is clearly not our natural dimension,” he says. “Thus it is that we are never really at home in time. Alternately, we find ourselves wishing to hasten the passage of time or to hold back the dawn. . . . [W]e are clearly not at home in time—because we belong to eternity” (11). I’m glad to hear that problem isn’t unique to me, from wanderlust or mommybrain or what have you. Although this life is a tiny piece of eternity, the experiences we gain here should not be rushed through. They are invaluable to our eternal progress—especially in our families.
This brought to mind a quotation, source long since lost, that a good friend’s mother shared with her:
Wise is the woman who cherishes each season
and cheerfully anticipates the next.
My friend shared this quotation during a lesson in church on having patience. Most of us in the room were mothers, many with young children—and I think we all recognized the very common human tendency to want to rush or move on through the difficult times of parenting.
Focusing solely on the future, the next season of our lives, robs many of us of the joy of today. We dwell on the difficulties that bedevil us now: lack of sleep, kids’ eating problems, overwhelming amounts of housework, lack of time with our children and/or spouse, kids’ tantrums, and on and on. We could all likely spend hours listing the things about motherhood that leave us dissatisfied. For me, at least, after I’ve done that, all I’m left with is dissatisfaction.
When I stop brooding over the “bad” parts of motherhood, however, suddenly my charge is less of a chore. When I look at the cute and sweet things that my son already does, when I marvel at the ways he’s grown and continues to grow every day, I don’t think about the drudgery that it was.
Perhaps hindsight is 20/20; perhaps memory is blind. But as I look back over Hayden’s brief life, my chief regret (aside, possibly, from mildly spoiling him 😉 ) is not enjoying him more, even during the difficult times.
So today, I’ll savor the season. Today, I will do the work of motherhood, and I will choose to be happy. Tomorrow I’ll be able to look back with fond memories of the time I spent today. And I’ll be ready for the challenges—and joys—that tomorrow will surely bring.