I realize I make no bones about my struggles with the newborn stage. I know that I am quite frank {as in &beans or Sinatra} about how my life has changed since becoming a mom. I know that you know I am not afraid to say this ssshh is bananas {ala Rachel Zoe and Gwen Stefani}.
But, at the end of the day, when I lay my head on my pillow {at least on the nights when I don’t fall asleep as I get one leg under the sheets}, this is what’s going through my heart.
I’ll never forget seeing Hootie Darius Rucker sing this just a month or so after B was born. It reduced me to tears {I’m sure you’re starting to think “What doesn’t reduce you to tears, ash?”} because it is spot on. Spot. On.
Of all of the parts I won’t miss with each year of maturity of our little men … the screaming … the temper tantrums … the word NO … and the dinnertime deadlock … there are millions of little morsels I will miss immensely.
I will miss having to take cars out of my shoes before I slip them on. I will miss having to take toys out of the bathtub before I draw a bath. I will miss the word Nope. I will miss hearing “I wuv you, mommy”. I will miss the sweetness of little loving laughter. I will miss belly giggles. I will miss the feeling of holding a soft breathing, calm peanut on my chest and rocking back…and forth. I will miss why.cuz. I will miss the excitement that is displayed at 7 am … every morning. I will miss only needing to kiss an ouchie to make it better. I will miss watching the anticipation for the simplest of things. I will miss taking walks and playing I spy. I will miss big smiles on small faces. I will miss the goos and coos. I will miss folding such little laundry. I will miss the smell of Pampers. I will miss time with boys and books. I will miss the incessant curiosity. I will miss feeling so needed. I will miss coloring with reckless abandon. I will miss singing to sleep. I will miss the whir of a monitor in my sleep. I will miss weekends with no real obligations. I will miss chasing bubbles in the wind. I will miss bath night. I will miss bedtime prayers. I will miss onesies. I will miss being reminded of how much joy one can derive from dancing. I will miss pretend. I will miss endless energy. I will miss peanut butter and jelly being the key to happiness. I will miss naptime. I will miss more than I won’t.
Of course, I won’t miss all of the aforementioned things right now … instead, I will complain about having toys wreak havoc on my house, be frustrated with the 100th why of the day, and groan when the wakeup is earlier than I’d prefer. Instead, I will enjoy the moments, the morsels, the brilliance of my boys. But I know. I know I won’t ever get this time back. I know it won’t ever be this simple again. I know. I’m gonna miss this.
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