This too shall pass is a definite favourite saying of mine these days.
This too shall pass. The sleepless nights, the projectile vomit and poop, the food stained, snot stained clothing. The games of TAG. The inconsolable sobs and tantrums of a two year old who has been denied. The screech of an 8 month old who is simple unimpressed. This too shall pass.
The frustration when another meal is refused, or swept of the high chair table. Bedtimes where they just won’t stay in bed.
This too shall pass, the tired bits, the boring bits, the lonely bits, the sad bits, the bits where I have no energy, the soggy body bits (though not passing quite as quickly as I was hoping… maybe caring about that shall pass), the bits where I have no time with my hubby, no time to myself. That strange contradictory sense of loss and gain. All that will pass.
One of my goddaughters, Daisy has just started school. My oldest goddaughter Beccy gets married in December. I can remember the day I first held Daisy; I remember where I was standing when Beccy asked me to be her godmother.
This too shall pass. The birth of my daughters. The first time I was alone with Tia and knew we’d be OK; the first time I saw Zoe’s heartbeat and saw she was there and alive in stark defiant contradiction to the comments of the ultrasound technician.This too shall pass. The way Tia calls out for me first thing in the morning. The way we sing in the car together. The way she squeals at me when I pick her up from her group. This too shall pass. The way Zoe reaches out her arms to me in the morning. The way she wrinkles her nose at me. The way she sleeps with my dressing gown because she prefers it to her blankie. The way Tia is… the way Zoe is…the way they …are with me.
This too shall pass, when Mommy and Daddy are the centre of the universe, the primary influence, the ones to heal their little hearts, wipe their tears, still their storms, build their confidence, be their joy. When we get to have them all to ourselves. This, too, shall pass.