Back to Life, Back to the Future

So, it has taken me, well, years to return to my thoughts. To allow myself the time to focus and reflect, and then time to document that such things actually occurred. This is the first blog I've written in so long that as I mark the return to The Tenth Room, I also need to mark my return to my home state and all the changes that have taken place. Since I've last visited, I've gone through a rocky and wonderful pregnancy, an extremely tumultuous move and another move and finally another move. I've also embraced the amazing world of motherhood to multiples. I'd like to say that life is completely unrecognizable, but I think it'd be more accurate to say that I think I'm finally living my life. I don't know, things are wild, but make more sense than ever before. God has done amazing works in my life, but along with the miracles, He's taught me plenty of lessons. One being patience (still a work in progress) and another being why I want to invent the time machine.  In the past few years, I've gone through more life lessons that I could have ever imagined. The process wasn't easy and the lessons have been lasting, but there are so many of these precious times that I wish I could pop open a little time capsule and see them all over again.

Both a gift and a blessing, I've been aware of how quickly time passes since a very young age. That ability has allowed me to savor moments that most people at certain ages might have washed away with all the trends they obsessed over. At the same time, it's caused me to feel overcome with desperation to hold on to fleeting moments that I know will flood my memory bank. I've learned that children make nearly every moment one of those "desperate, clawing, SSSLLLOOOWWW DDDOOOOWWWNN" moments for me. It's not that cliche motherly stuff you read on every other meme on Facebook that gets me. Before children, I've loved deeply and find myself frequently daydreaming of some of those "good ole days." I have a wonderful family, an absolutely amazing husband, and a few fantastic friends that carry pieces of my heart everywhere they've ventured around the globe. While my children have taught me many things, they have not taught me to love or even to cherish heartfelt moments.

My children have taught me about hope. Not just the Hallmark version of hope, but the fall on your knees, thanking the Lord hope. They have taught me to slow down and focus. I've always appreciated my multitasking abilities, but that's not what our lives are about. It's handy to get through the day to day that we humans have decided is just sooo important. Kids aren't like that, they put everything into exactly what they are doing whether it be inspecting a blade of grass or learning how to crawl. They put every ounce of energy and get genuinely excited about whatever "little" thing they are doing, without remorse, criticism, or judgement. They have taught me to live for today. I've noticed that I've never felt satisfied with my achievements, always feeling like they were meager and so small compared to what is still needing to be done. Then I look at my Jonah and Jillian, fighting, crying, pushing to do something like roll over or climb on the bed. When they finally do it, there is such honest satisfaction and enjoyment on their faces. They don't do these things with the burden of knowing that one day they are going to have to audition for first chair in the band in high school, or get their college degree, or land the perfect job, or complete the Boston Marathon. They just want to get on the damn bed!  I guess they are still teaching me to appreciate the small things. Most importantly, they have taught me to love with everything, all the time. It's not a new love, I've loved them long before I even knew I could be the vessel of such miracles. It's just that they are adults in the making, just like you and me, that I just happen to have invested every bit of myself into without even a thought. People are suppose to grow, gain independence, and move on. It's just crazy to see the metamorphosis right before your very eyes. I'm learning that I am utterly in love with every stage they have been in and it is a very conflicting emotion for me to celebrate their graduation to another stage and still want to push their little butts back down and swaddle them. I wonder if my parents think that about me! I know one day, both of them will be adults and not remember the excitement of these "little" accomplishments, think about how fascinated they were with my nose, or feel the urgency for me to hold them (do you still remember feeling that way about your mother?), but I'll never forget that. That is the hard part of parenting. I don't think one has to become a parent to realize these things, but I never would have if I hadn't become one, I know that.

It's not hard to figure out why humans have had such an obsession with time machines all these years. Moments can be so moving, so life-altering. Pieces of time are held in your memory just a touch too faintly to satisfy the craving. Sometimes you just long to have it again. So, until I can gather enough Plutonium from the Libyans and get my hands on a DeLorean, I guess I'll continue to pack away these precious memories into my time capsule, I'm sure there is room for a few million more. And maybe I can get back to putting some of these thoughts and memories into my blog to give my memory a little break!