She keeps growing without permission. I find myself looking back at what felt like yesterday, even though the calendar says different, and wondering if I’ve given her everything I wanted to. I can’t help but think about life before my Cidderbug and how grateful I was to finally get her in my arms. Now she’s squirming away into the uncharted waters of young womanhood. Does she know how much I love her? Does she know how sad I am when she’s sad? How my heart aches when she struggles with something challenging? How proud I am of her every accomplishment?
Sometimes the daily hum drum of life drowns out the important things. I relive all the moments and mistakes when the patience ran thin. My memory is longer than hers for most of these things – thank heaven for tender mercies. We are our own worst critique they say. Most of the time I find myself treating my measuring stick like a bank register except I only ever seem to record the deficits. But then you get those glimmers when your child does something that makes your heart so proud it feels it might burst, those moments when you know you did something right. Those are the times when the Lord steps in and writes in your deposit for you.
Parenting is a whirlwind. It’s a crash course of learning you never knew possible. The climbs are harder and steeper than you thought you had the energy or strength for, and the views are incredible beyond description. The time you have them in your clutches is far shorter than the time they’ll spend being independent, yet when they’re young it consumes you to the point you can’t imagine them growing beyond you. And then you turn around and there they are looking back at you.