We Have THIS Moment

I don't like mornings. Well, maybe it's like a love-hate relationship, because I LOVE coffee, and big breakfasts, and having devotions all together. But the morning rush? No thank you. It seems like everyone needs something in the mornings, and they need it NOW. Gabe needs a bottle and his diaper changed because it absolutely cannot hold one more drop. Jasmine is crying because she woke up and is hungry. Andy needs breakfast ASAP so he can get out the door to work, and me? I just need some time to get dressed!

With Jasmine getting up in the night to be fed, it's all I can do to drag myself out of bed when my alarm rings at 6:10 AM. Often, like this morning, I cheat and go back to sleep, only to rush around the rest of the morning feeling very behind. I guess I could help this scenario by just getting up on time, but boy is it hard these days! I haven't had a good night's sleep since Jasmine was born two and a half months ago.

This morning, in the midst of the craziness, Andy said, "Let's live our lives as though we are 60 years old and looking back."

Huh, what??

"You know how old people remember back to the days they had small children and often regret how little time they spent playing with them, or just enjoying the moment? Let's try to live now in such a way that we don't have regrets when we are old."

Wise words, and ones I hope to remember in the coming days. Childhood is so fleeting. I already miss when Gabe was a baby. I don't want to lose Jasmine's babyhood by wishing she was able to hold her own bottle, play with toys, talk, etc. By always looking ahead toward what is next, I too easily miss what is happening NOW.

So this morning I took the time to read Gabe a book. Four times. And when he wakes up from his nap, I want to go play tractors with him like he is always begging for. And meanwhile, I am trying to adjust my attitude toward busy mornings. Because when the house is empty and the children gone to their own homes and lives, I KNOW I will wish I had those crazy moments back. Those precious, wonderful years of raising children.