Today is one of those days when the thought, "I wish I could make more time to write," is quickly countered with, "But I don't wish I had less time with my kids." Writer's guilt I can conquer. Mommy guilt -- not so much.
Yet another life change occurred in my parental world today as my youngest child (known as Baby Girl and Little Bit to my Facebook friends) finished elementary school. It's a much bigger deal than my heart originally bargained for.
All day I've been singing Fleetwood Mac's song "Landslide." Especially the line that says, "I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my world around you... Time makes you bolder, children get older and I'm getting older, too..." And it asks the question, "Can I handle the seasons of my life?"
Well, can I?
I mean goodness, I've done this twice already. It should be old hat. But the third time's charm struck after we arrived back home and I sat down at my laptop somewhat paralyzed. With a span of 13 years between my oldest and youngest, I've had plenty of years to prep for each of my "last baby does X" moments. Yet they always catch me off guard.
When she was a baby and I was juggling middle school football, T-ball, a crazy a** job and breastfeeding, I wanted everything to go faster. I couldn't wait until everybody could do just a little more for themselves so that I could find a minute or two to breathe. In those early years of hers, she absolutely caught the brunt of my "hurry up and grow up" mental chant.
Then suddenly (not at all though), she grew, she laughed, she turned into a tweenage Mini-Me and I felt buckets of hourglass sand slipping through my fingers. She did hurry up and grow up. But not by my doing, that's just life. When my oldest took off for grad school I instinctively turned around to slow her down, but it was too late.
Thankfully, only theoretically.
She's growing up, yes. And I'm accepting that I am in a state of lifelong transition because change never ceases.
I know that one day (too soon) ample writing time will come. I'll be able to post about my knocking off word counts and counting up sales because -- God willing -- there will be long languid hours without soccer practice, sleepovers and the mountain of busyness that life with kids brings.
But meanwhile, I will be deliberately thankful for every single moment: to be able to have a child, and raise her, and love her, and to have enough sense to stop and smell the roses that we plant together.
No, the landslide won't bring me down. Today.