In a Moment
Lately I am having a little trouble letting moments just be moments. I have to remind myself how temporary a moment is, good or bad. Ironically, this is the number one piece of advice I write down at bridal showers and baby showers on that little bit of card stock they leave on the table in an effort to break the ice between guests who are strangers so the bride or mommy to be can put them in an adorable scrapbook to cherish forever. (Or if you’re like me, never look at them again. Oops.)
I kind of think this is great advice, to strive to remember that moments are merely moments. So temporary, so fleeting. We know this. And we say “live in the moment” all the time. But it is much easier said than done. And something feels a little too cheesy and simple about “live in the moment” even though it is probably good advice as well.
In essence, whatever moment we are in surely cannot last very long. This notion is supposed to make the difficult things more bearable and the wonderful things more precious. The moments that we can never get back, that we are lucky enough to be present for should be cherished and stored in our memories forever. The hard parts are also fleeting and will pass quicker than we think and in retrospect will probably not seem so bad after all. No matter what wave we are riding, the tide is sure to change sooner rather than later, for better or for worse. It may feel like an eternity being in that moment but the elusiveness of it is both a blessing and curse.
In my own life lately I am certainly guilty of taking the happy moments for granted. Some days it is not hard, and the simple beauty of it can easily take me by surprise and take my breath away. For me it is in the unexpected details.
But more often than not these days, I am finding it very hard to recognize the hard moments as temporary. And I’m not even talking about the phases of growth and development that almost seem to be never ending. I am literally talking about that moment where everyone is whining and they all need something from me, something vital like food or water on top of attention, and I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet. That is the kind of moment I know for sure will be over in a matter of minutes. Give them what they need, get through breakfast, grind out the rest of the morning routine, bus pick up, preschool drop off, we are good to go. But that highly frustrating moment of sensory overload is enough to break me these days. Maybe this is what true parental burnout looks like. Or maybe I’m normal. I can’t sing kumbaya while dishing out pancakes, listening to Cocomelon, and juggling permission slips with rescheduled dog groomer appointments. I just can’t. More power to the mom who can. You are my hero.
My point is… I’m not really sure actually. I guess my point is that I wish I had more fortitude for the tough or messy or just plain annoying moments that are a nonnegotiable side effect of raising 3 children. Being cognizant of the transitory nature a moment brings and actually getting through said moment are two completely different things. If I was trying to get through a tough workout, or long run, or uncomfortable phase, I would zone out and let my mind wander somewhere else to the point of distraction. Well you can’t really do that as the primary caregiver of the moment under deadline and schedules and life events. And to some extent I would not want to. To some extent.
