I Wish... But I Can't

I wish I could tell that new 30 year old mommy that when I was almost 40 I would do anything for a day at home with my new baby from China; playing on the floor with her, sweeping up cheerios, changing her diaper, putting little baby clips in her hair, pushing her in the stroller...




But I can't.

I wish I could be at that first Christmas with her as she sat in my lap during Christmas Eve Mass and tears poured down my face because I had a baby that Christmas.  I heard the songs start and I was so joyful to hold her. 






But I can't. 

I wish I could hold Abigail as an infant just once more; all tiny, scrunched up and magical.  I wish I could rock her in the middle of the night. (oh, I did that last night at 3:30... but you get the idea) I wish I could go back to that little baby and breastfeeding her.









But I can't.

These girls are growing too fast for me.  I'm feeling like I'm stepping a bit into new territory.  It's almost Spring and that means that soon Abigail's preschool year will wind down and you all know what that means.  (kindergarten) And I get a knot deep down in the pit of my stomach. 



But this I know is true...

They are not grown up yet.  They are still little girls.  I am still their mommy.  They still need help, guidance, and daily care from me.  And I am happy and grateful to give it.  They are my career, my life's work, my passion. 

Someday when I'm almost 50 I'll say...
I wish I could go back and help Anna with her third grade homework and pick Abigail up at 11:30 from preschool. 



But today I can.

At almost 50 I'll say,  I wish I could see Abigail's beaming face when she shows me her craft at preschool and her her little girl voice when she tells me all about it. 



But today I can.

At almost 50 I'll say, I wish I could walk too slow, Abigail's speed, up the steps from her school and to the car while she talks a mile a minute telling me about her day.




But today I can.

At almost 50  I'll say, I wish I could pick Anna up at her school and have her scan the crowd quickly and all panicked until she locks eyes with me.

But today I will.

At almost 50 I'll say, I wish there was too much giggling, spilling of milk, Winnie the Pooh music playing at dinner. 

But today there will be.

At almost 50 I'll say, I wish I could quietly sit down on the playroom floor and help my girls navigate through an argument about plastic ponies.

But today I'm sure I will.

At almost 50 I'll say, I wish I could make dinner at 9am so I could drive Anna to viola, tennis, art school, help with homework, play with Abigail, find lost bears and weebies to cheer up and have enough energy to get through til bedtime.

But today I did.

At almost 50 I'll say, I wish I could do their braids and pony tails with clips ribbons and bows. 


(doing hair)

But today I did. 

At almost 50 I'll say, I wish I could help Abigail learn the words to a song to sing in her Grandpa's musical Peter Pan.





But today we did.

And on and on I could go.  Today I'm living the golden years.  Today my girls are little and need me.  Today my husband needs my support and hard work around the house so that he can change the world in his little elementary school.  


(I love the sparkle in Abigail's eyes as she looks at her sister)

Today when cousins get together their are shrills of joy.  Today is a gift from God and I will not take it lightly. 

THIS is the day the Lord has made.  I WILL rejoice and be glad in it.