Summer seemed to have slipped away more quickly than I could have ever imagined. Each week, I would think, "Four more weeks of summer." Then, "Two more weeks of summer." Last week, I found myself thinking, "Three more days of summer." This week, I headed to work full time. Shorts and slow mornings are being traded in for cute shoes and forty hour weeks.
These past few years at home with my babies have been hard. The plan was always to go back to work eventually. But eventually always felt so far away. On hard days, when I had been wearing the same pair of yoga pants for too many days to count and my shirt was stained with spit up, it seemed light years away. On even harder days, full of toddler tantrums and sleepless newborn nights, it seemed like it would never come. On the good days spent in the sunshine eating lunch at the park, it was the farthest thing from my mind. But now, it's here. And it came so quickly that I can barely remember what it felt like for it to be far away.
Yes, these five years at home have been hard, Yes, sometimes I found myself wishing I was doing anything except staying at home with my small, helpless children. But now? Part of me wishes I could relive these years, with their hard days and long nights. I'm closing the chapter on this season of my life with a thankful heart. My kids got to spend mornings at the park and days at the zoo. I got to make their lunch each day and cut their grapes in half every day. Part of me is mourning the end of our time at home together, as if their childhood is somehow over. But it's not. It's still going to be my name they cry out when they are scared or hurt or excited. It's still me they will trust to hold their most valuable treasures we find on walks or at the park. I still get to be their mama no matter how many hours of the day we spend apart or together.