Smile with your eyes, be gentle with your hands, and hold love for many in your hearts.

Busy.

It's the season of life that we are in. That most are in when they become parents. And then they add another child. Or another sport. They add another family tradition. And then maybe yet another child. They add family-teacher conferences, play dates, birthday parties, and soccer games. And maybe even another child. And before you know it, busy all of a sudden takes on a whole new meaning.

Days are forgotten. Birthdays are almost missed. Multi-tasking becomes a sport. And juggling is simply an expectation.


For us, having just had our third baby, life definitely hasn't slowed down. I've written down their milestones. I've written them birthday letters. I've taken more pictures than should be legal. I have turned those images into albums throughout the years. I've videotaped their first steps, Birthday mornings, their impromptu singing, and family vacations. And yet I'm worried. I worry I will forget that feeling I felt when they first giggled, said "I lub you", the way they looked at me, the way they squealed when they opened their first present, the way their eyes get big at the sight of a donut, the way they climb that one broken cabinet drawer that is barely holding on, the way they can play pirates for hours on end, the way Graham sings so loud that I swear the neighbors can hear, and the way they beg and plead "just one more," for just about anything and everything. Just the way that they are. Each one of them. Unique, special, and perfect in their own way. 

I worry. I worry I will somehow forget it all. The noise, the faces, the moments.

Forget their smells, their voices, their tiny toes, sweet soft cheeks, the smell of the outdoors, the way they argue over the silliest mundane things {like who's going to kiss the baby first}, the way they say words incorrectly, and the way they think that their mama and papa are the greatest things on Earth {most days}.

And the baby. Oh the baby. The smell. The soft hair. The need and ultimate desire to be loved and held all hours of the day. The coos. The sleepy smiles. The warmth on her cheeks after a feeding. The way she fits so perfectly in my arms.

As I sit here doing two things I haven't done in a long time {drink a cup of coffee and sit at the breakfast table blogging in the moment}, I can't help but look around at me. Capture a mental note of everything around me. Smile at the commotion. And shed a few tears for not understanding this whole motherhood thing and what it's all about many days.

I remember, I understand, but somehow I get lost in those moments and then forget.

It's not about them being perfect, using their manners all the time, having patience, listening, or learning how to share. Somehow we put so much importance on those things {and they are very important} that we forget to just let them be kids, and most importantly to be human.

To make mistakes, to get angry, to want things for themselves, to be selfish, to ignore the requests {which sound like demands}, and to just sit around and watch TV gosh darn it from time to time. Isn't that how we as adults feel at times? Don't we have moments where we want to be lazy, write off the entire universe, and just be left alone.

Aren't they allowed to feel the same?

I never want to get lost in the ideals of raising children. I never want to put the wrong importance on things that will just happen. I want to focus on the good, the happiness, and most of all I want to let them be children.

I want to teach them grace and patience. I want to teach them that kindness is more important than grades, what kind of job you have, or the money in your wallet. I want to teach them to always help those that need our help the most; the poor, the young, the elderly, and the sick and the pained. 

I want them to cherish their family. To stick up for one another, to teach each other, to never lose sight of the importance of those that share your blood, name, or house that you live in. And to make time for one another.

I want them to know it's okay to make a mistake. It's okay not to be perfect. It's okay to not think about others but yourself at times, and that this is something that we all struggle with at moments in our lives. It's the one quality that every human on Earth shares; Imperfection.

I want to teach them to value life. To not take a single day for granted. To understand that anything can change in a second, and that we should forever be grateful. For our health. For our loved ones. For having the opportunity to wake up every morning. For our legs that help us walk, and our arms that allow us to embrace our friends. For our voices that give us the opportunity to speak, and for our ears that allow us to listen and learn.

So enjoy life. Enjoy your family and friends. Enjoy that ice cream before dinner {which sometimes turn into dinner}, enjoy the TV marathon, the book you can't put down, the smell of fall and the way the sun feels on your skin. Enjoy laughing none stop to farting noises, dancing with everything you've got, and feeling what love is truly all about. Even when it hurts at times.

Children, I want you to know that I cherish you. I adore you for who you are. I never want you to be anything but you.  I hope that you forever know how loved you are, how appreciated you are, and how important you are to this world that we live in. You don't have to win the Noble peace prize, become the doctor who cures all of cancer, or have millions in the bank account.

All I ever want, for each one of you, is to smile with your eyes, be gentle with your hands, and to hold love for many in your hearts.

If I can just accomplish that as a mother, then I know that I have done something right by you.