A simple, "I'm busy," doesn't begin to explain my life. "Overwhelming" hardly begins to scratch the surface. There are moments I yearn for empty hands and the possession of time as my own but I know that right now, at the peak of this season of exhaustion and busyness, I will never be more happy, content, and fulfilled.
The dishwasher's still full because last minute, I got invited to the ultrasound to find out if I'm going to have a nephew or a niece - during naptime (aka a parent's time to get anything done). Btw, it's a nephew!! Dinner wasn't cleaned up right away because I firmly believe ice cream always taste better when you go out to get it. It's a fact, actually. Laundry's so behind it's embarrassing because we've been out this week: family farm, the beach, and I squeezed in a date with the husband. Sure, the date included an oil change, renewing our auto tabs, and buying Ali a birthday dress with a near expiring coupon. Minor details. The point is I spent time by myself. with my husband. when the sun was actually out!! Miracles, ya'll, miracles.
I'm slowly and progressively learning to prioritize. Clean houses just don't mean as much to me now as they use to because my kids are growing up and time is so incredibly fleeting. I mean, let's be real, I'll probably sleep half of a credited doctor's nightly suggestion of sleep because I'm still a bit of a neat freak ... but I've learned to let go.
I mean, Aiden hardly busts a move now because he's older and cooler. Tristen doesn't cuddle with me half as much as he used to. Ali's word-to-screaming ratio is widening in a good trending way. Thank goodness. And Carsen, my baby, demands to be treated just like the rest of the kids.
They're growing up. But even more than just growing up, they're changing. They become new people almost every day.
Quirks and traits that you used to define them slowly dwindle away until one day you realize they haven't done or said that thing in weeks. The sweetness of the words they can't properly pronounce is replaced with boring, regular speech. "Gankey" suddenly becomes "blanket." "Puppy-dog" is now adamantly a "dog."
The bitterness and sweetness of raising children is children just don't grow up, their very core changes. And if I spend most of my time cleaning my house and occupying my time with other things, I'm going to miss all these quirky, amazing people that grace my life for such short periods of my life. Right now, I'm digging the lego-obsessed kid that says, "this is the best. day. ever!!" at least twice a week, the shy kid that idolizes his older brother and will seriously ask us, "why we not sleeping?", the little girl that likes to "cheers" with her cup every time we eat and "pound it" immediately followed by an explosion sound, and the man-baby that has a crazy obsession with food and an even crazier dislike with the notion of sharing his mommy (jealousy is a legit thing).
Sure, I'll still love them when we start engaging in "adult talk" and I'm just as excited for them as they will be about growing up but right now, they're so dang amazing. And their love and need for me is overwhelming ... in the best. possible. way. I'm in the thick of this mess and I already miss all of it.