This Time Is Ours

“The days are long, but the years are short.” I’m not sure who first said these words, but I am sure that they speak to me and to mothers all over the world. Being a mother is hard work. It really is. It is more challenging than anything I’ve ever done, but it is more rewarding than anything I’ve ever experienced. The fact is, being a mom is amazing. Being a parent is amazing. Raising a baby, watching them grow into a child — it’s all quite humbling, isn’t it?

As a stay-at-home-mom, the days are long. They are so long! When I am frustrated or at the end of my rope, I have to remember how I felt when I was working full time and all the reasons why I wanted to stay home to raise my babies. I remember feeling so empty, stretched so thin, not being the mother or employer I wanted to be. In my heart of hearts, I knew life would be better if I was home with them.

Making the decision to leave my job was a scary one, but one that I look back on now and swell with pride. Because here I am, nearly two years later, staying home to raise my littles. I get to spend my days with them. Every day I get to be the one to play with them, read with them, care for them, feed them, and watch them grow and develop. It’s a gift I take for granted every single day, especially when it’s difficult. (And it’s difficult every single day, folks.)



I am constantly temped to turn on a show or hand them some gadget that will give me some “alone” time. Sure, there is research to show why babies shouldn’t watch TV or play with tech, but the honest reason we steer clear of all of that is because I want this time to be ours. This time IS ours. It’s our chance to play and connect, to laugh and create. We spend our days going on adventures, making projects, baking cookies, and reading. And we do it all together.

We will never get this time back. And yes, I know that my girls won’t remember every single thing we did together. I know they won’t remember making those cool Christmas tree ornaments or building a fort in the basement while we play with our wooden trains. But I certainly will. I will remember every little bit. I’ll look back and be so filled with joy about the time I had raising my girls. This time is ours, and I am so thankful for that. The next time I think about giving them something to pass the time or give myself a break, I need to remember how much I love this gig. 


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