Shift

My two year old climbed out of her crib last week.  Three times.  We told her to stop.  It didn't work. We didn't want her to break her arm continuing to practice her pole vaulting skills out of her crib.  I didn't know that last Thursday night would be the last time I put one of my babies in a crib.  Now, she has adjusted, after one week of a bit of the battle of the wills...to her new toddler bed.

I still watch her fall asleep, that baby of mine.  Those sweet round cheeks, perfect nose and lips. Those long lashes brushing her little face.  That last little baby of mine.

My two year old is also practicing the art of potty training.  I am not sure when the last diaper will be used, but it is coming.  It is strange, but I will miss changing my babies' diapers, even.  Yes, even that.

My five year old got a letter about Kindergarten.  I have seven more months with him at home (not that I am counting or anything).  I want to savor every last minute of him being my baby boy, being at home with his mama.  He is adding and subtracting.  He is reading.  He is not napping in the afternoon.  He is seeking more, more than what I can teach him.  I see that he is ready for Kindergarten, but am I?

My eight year old has completed his first Diorama.  It has a full on "report" with it.  He is also getting ready to be in the "big leagues" for baseball with upcoming practice 2 nights a week with a game on the weekend.  He is no longer happy to tag along on our old adventures around Durham.  He still does it, but he has grown out of the mall play area, the train and Lego tables at Barnes and Nobles and almost the Chick-fil-a play area...sigh...such great great memories of those days with my littles.

I always imagined getting married and then having babies...but really, I didn't imagine much past that.  I didn't really imagine myself getting yelled at by my 8 year old that "That's not fair".  I didn't imagine my 5 year old passing up a one on one date with dear old mom in favor of watching football with his dad.  I didn't imagine my 2 year old little girl throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the bowling alley while my 5 year old panicked about how to get the ball down the alley and my 8 year old pitched an all mighty fit about not winning.  Nope, didn't imagine those fun times...

When you have your last baby and you see that baby growing up and asserting her little self, you realize that you are now surrounded by little humans who have opinions that need molding and guiding...not little babies that think you are the best thing since sliced bread.  And, that molding and guiding...it takes a lot, I mean a lot, of work.

Before too long, there will be no more greeting me every morning with a big goofy happy grin with sweet little curls and giggles.  No more running to hug me when I walk in the room.  No more making me feel like the mom I try to be and imagined I would be.

I only say this because I have already seen it happen twice, this shift.  My sweet boys turned "teenagery" - overnight.  (definitely not saying they don't ever hug their mama or cuddle in my lap still- it's just not as frequent as when they were littler!)

I am training for my first half marathon.  Fitting, I'd say, amidst some real shifts going on in my home and heart.  As I inch up the miles I run, week by week, I am getting stronger and stronger.  My muscle memory is growing.  My stamina is growing.  My resolve is growing.  Much like mothering babies to toddlers to waddlers to preschoolers to Kindergartners to Third graders to...not yet there...yep, not yet at 13.1 miles...but I will be.

The great thing is that each mile, each step, each phase, God gives me what I need for that time.  He doesn't give it to me any sooner.  And I can't slow it down or rush it, no matter how hard I try either way.

I can enjoy the ride, though.  And, I can live into each moment I am given with these precious little ones.

This mothering.  It is a tender blessing.  It is a snapshot into heaven.  Shift or no shift, I love this calling that I can only do with God's great grace and mercy, one day at a time.