The cries of my two year old rang throughout the house and the grunts of my newborn filled the silence in between. The baby was hungry. The two year old was refusing bed.
I could feel the impatience creeping up inside like a long lost friend. All my strategies for bed time had failed, and I could no longer ignore his little voice calling out for momma between deep sobs. I stomped up the stairs and removed him from his crib to (gently) toss him in my bed.
I looked at his tear-stained face and assured him I’d be right back after I grabbed his sister from downstairs. He said okay momma and wrestled around anxiously as I walked out of the room. We snuggled up close beneath the cool sheets. Part of me felt I’d lost a battle – like he’d won the prize of my cozy bed and I’d lost the war of discipline. The other part of me held on tight to the warmth of slowing down and breathing in the moment.
The newborn was curled up on my chest and my sweet, growing boy was nestled in close by my head. The familiar pull of his hands through my hair brought a smile to my face. I knew it wouldn’t be like this forever, let alone much longer. His chubby baby self was quickly changing, growing, stretching. Hold on tight momma.
Soft lullabies filled the room as I listened closely to the deep, sleepy breaths of both my babies. In the chaos of schedules and rules and planning, I often miss these little treasures. The treasure of being fully immersed in the present moment.
I’m at war. Lost between holding him close and wanting space, between fighting battles and surrendering. His defiance is a simple cry for closeness. How can a mother deny that? Some may call it a bad habit, others may say it’s giving in when instead you should enforce boundaries, but others will say, let them be little.
Between the push and pull that is motherhood I find little pockets of peace. I find peace in being forced to slow down and soak it in. I find peace in being fully present in the passing moments.
“The present moment holds infinite riches beyond [our] wildest dreams, but [we] will only enjoy them to the extent of [our] faith and love…To discover God in the smallest and most ordinary things, as well as in the greatest, is to possess a rare and sublime faith.”Jean Pierre de Caussade