Two weeks ago Hayleigh also had her half birthday. What's the problem? Well, in my sentimental- overly emotional-worrisome-sometimes pessimistic-mind the half birthday means that the following day they are closer to one and three YEARS old, than an infant and a two year old. I almost see it as a down hill descent to their birthdays. Is this rational? No. Does it help matters? Of coarse not! But every now and then I feel these emotions creeping up inside me. I feel my fists tighten as if I am trying to grasp on to something I was never meant to control, time. I feel my eyes swell with hot tears as I must admit what I already knew to be true: my babies are growing up, and try as I might, cry as I might, I can't prevent it.
I know from experience with Hayleigh that the upcoming months and toddler years are much more fun for me than the infant months. I love to watch as babies discover new things, interact more and more and their little (or in the case of my kids BIG) personalities emerge. I know all this lies ahead for Braxton, so I am actually pretty excited. I am enthralled watching Hayleigh as she grows too. She is such a sweet, funny, enthusiastic and loving little girl. (gulp..."little girl"). Everyday she amazes me, teaches me, and warms my heart. I have no reason to believe that this will stop any time soon. I think it is just the nature of time that tends to upset me, not necessarily the immediate future. I reason that if these past months and years have gone by at such warp speed, how am I ever going to slow them down? (I am not.) Before I know it Hayleigh will be in kindergarten! (And this is clearly the end of the world since I am the first mother ever to have a child reach school age.) Could this also be partially about losing control? (Oh, probably. Okay, most definitely.)
I guess all I can do is to accept the inevitable once again and try to be purposeful with each day, each hour. I knew before they were born what my role was, in theory. I am a steward of their lives while they are here on earth and in my home. A steward by nature realizes that these things are not their own. They belong to someone else. My children belong to God. I am privileged and blessed enough to be given the gift of raising them. When I keep this perspective it takes me from a place of pity and helplessness to a place of gratitude and reliance on God.