before you know it, there you are.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

if you haven't noticed, i have a new look.
to go along with the new me I'm working to become.
simple, clear-headed, sparkling, on the verge of taking giant leaps.
(feet first, of course.)
'before you know it, there you are.'
something I've been whispering to myself for years, 
in the face of moments I've greatly anticipated, feared,
lost sleep over, 
and there I was.
learning how fast time flies,
even when you're in the thick of stuff,
when time seems to drag and you're wishing for the ride to stop,
before you know it, there you are.
and through it.
face to face with whatever you were waiting for or praying for.
and then moving on to the next.
like when you're planning your wedding and a year seems so far away,
and you have plenty of time to get everything done.
and before you know it, there you are, 
walking down the aisle to your future.
and before you know it there you are,
planning for the birth of your first child,
dreaming, wondering, learning.
and before you know it, there you are. 
dropping him off at kindergarten.
dressing your 4-year-old daughter in her tutu and tights.
something you swore you wouldn't do again.
but you are.  
because never say never,
and. . .well. . .
it makes her happy.  it fuels her and you can't deny her that.
and although she's looking like a boy these days with her fuzzy haircut,
she's the most beautiful little boy you've ever seen.
and you'll gladly take the haircut if it means she can keep her good health.
her healthy appetite for blueberries, running shamelessly in her tinkerbell undies,
and always carry the strength and vigor to stand up for herself, 
the way she does to her bigger and older brother,
taking him by a choke-hold and bringing him to the ground.
(I didn't teach her that.)
and before you know it, there you are.
potty-training your baby.
not a baby anymore though.
even though you remember that day like yesterday
and go there so often,
one of your happy places.
the night you cuddled him in the darkness of your hospital room,
just the two of you, soaking up every second,
because before you knew it, you'd be in another place.
it was as if you just. . .blinked.
between the hospital and home.
between your childhood and the church.
and there you are.
all the while, wondering how you got here so quickly.
now a wife.
now a parent,
so, so, terrifying.
but so, so, so, so heavenly.
once you realize life doesn't stop for you
and there's so much to see,
you saddle up and ride, the best you can.
finding in it, especially life as a parent,
a joy you can't describe.
despite the fears, the chaos, the stress, the frustration,
you get to kiss the nape of their little necks,
nuzzle your way in, right in to that little space where their eyes meet their nose,
bury yourself in their hair and breathe in like it was your last breath.
pure joy.
watch their chubby little meat fingers pick up cheerios for the first time
or stack legos.
watching them stand and think,
almost knock-kneed, in just their diaper and shirt.
my gosh, even their little tongues seem too delicate for words.
you wouldn't trade ANY of it, the good and bad,
you'd give up more sleep, your heart and soul, 
your own life,
to make it last forever.
or to at least give them a life free from pain and suffering.
before you know it, there you are.
thanks to them, brought back to the moment,
reading books,
learning to see the world again,
through THEIR eyes.
with their real beauty,
their innocence,
their ability to live in the moment.
and you do your best to jump in with them
every change you get.


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