Three years ago, my life changed in the most significant way I think it possibly ever could.
The brightest light lit up my world and expanded my heart X’s a million. A 7 lb. 9 oz. baby girl was placed in my arms and it was like falling inside a whole new universe.
I know a lot of mamas can relate to this feeling so in honor of Kens third birthday I thought I’d share these thoughts of recollection and love from the amazing journey of motherhood thus far.
The life before you joined us is really just a blur. Sure there were deeper sleeps and days full of freedom. Memories were centered around a social agenda, friends, and where the spot would be that night. Romance was alive and make out sessions were like clock work. Life was “fun” but I had no idea what was to come.
Time stood still when you made your debut. There were tears and smiles and gasps of excitement. Shaky hands met the softest skin ever known and the greatest bond was formed.
You were the warmest, squishiest, most kissable thing on earth. Our eyes, snuggling arms and smooches could not be pried from you. You were unflawed, too perfect for this world, and had most definitely been sent straight from the heavens.
The days after your arrival were tiresome, exciting, scary and new. But, just like a newness in anything, it didn’t last long. Soon the time had flown, and the days turned into one month, and one month went on to a year.
Before long you were crawling around the house, babbling on in your own little language (that we somehow fully understood). Then steps were taken, which led to running, and chasing you around was a regular occurrence. Tantrums were thrown. Over and over again. And emotions were heightened from the smallest human in the room.
Toys were scattered all over the house like the entire floor was a baby magnetic force field. Mushy food in a jar turned into real food and real food led to hilarious explanations about what could be eaten once a day rather than 5 times a day. (Cheese sticks + granola bars)
Outfits became sillier and less fashionable (yet somehow cuter) as you learned to dress yourself. Car rides switched from jamming the Hot 100 List to belting out Disney songs and the TV changed from HGTV to Disney Junior.
Our bed got more crammed as your growing body stretched out across it and our hours of rest decreased, but the most wonderful snuggles came to existence. Morning cuddles, cartoons, and breakfast in bed became the AM ritual. Yogurt, fruit, milk, coffee. Let’s start the day.
Personalities were discovered and attitude became a thing. The humor within a spunky statement became the highlight of my day. Telling me what to do as bossily as a two year old possibly could was becoming a habit I never knew you were capable of. I had that one coming for me…
Finally, your independence grew so strong that soon enough you didn’t need me to open your water bottle, put your potty seat on the toilet, get you a snack or even put your shoes on.
I blinked and missed when you could suddenly do things on your own. I took for granted the times I did these things out of habit without realizing someday I wouldn’t have to.
Sometimes my heart aches because I no longer have a two year old. I went to sleep and woke up to another year gone by. Did I soak it all in? Was I fully present mentally and emotionally through it all? Was I enough for her?
Beyond that feeling, I’m also hopeful and excited because this next year I am going to fully focus on slowing down. I want to be present in every single moment. Be patient through whatever may be occurring. Be THANKFUL for the time I have to spend with her, no matter if it’s happy and exciting or frustrating and exhausting.
We only get a limited number of days with them before they don’t need us to tuck them in, make them food, read them a story, or sing them a song. They won’t be so willing to give us kisses, snuggle up in our beds and spend all of their time with us one day. Embrace it all and cherish the time you have.
I promise, you’ll wake up one morning and three years will have passed that you’ll never be able to get back. Be fully there. Be present. Be enough. It’s all we can be for them. It’s what the Lord put on our hearts to do as mothers.
Happy Birthday Kennedy Gray. Thank you for brightening my world and creating a life of happiness and bliss. I am so thankful that we were made for each other and I’m so glad you’re here.