Reflecting on my chaotic Monday, I had a quiet, tender moment with my son this morning as he woke. I sat beside him and watched his long eyelashes flutter, his rosebud lips part, and the soft curls on top of his head stir. He reached for my hand with a slow, sleepy motion — completely angelic. While his waking hours swing between pure delight and moments that make me think “Calgon, take me away,” his sleeping face is always gentle and peaceful.
Those small seconds remind me how quickly time passes. Having a 19-year-old and a 16-year-old certainly shows me how fast children grow, and I treasure every stage of motherhood. But when you’ve been a mom for a long time, with many more years ahead, it’s easy to feel worn down — especially when life piles on problems and frustrations.
One glance at that sweet sleeping face erased Monday’s fuss: the missing shoe, the forgotten homework, the little dramas. I felt steadier and ready to face the day again. I saw a similar photo on Pottery Barn Kids that tugged at my heart and brought back memories of when he was a baby. I remembered the sleepless nights, the burped-on shirts, and the endless diaper changes, but also the sweetness of his tiny face, the sparkle in his eyes, and the wonder of each milestone. Those memories made me want to slow down today instead of hurrying toward tomorrow.
Right now he’s seven. We talk about soccer championships, trophies, bugs, superheroes, and inevitably, bodily functions. He’s loud, dramatic, and full of energy. Today I’ll go through his room to prepare for the new school year, sorting clothes and deciding which shoes and jeans no longer fit. It’s always surprising how quickly sizes change — items that seemed to fit yesterday are suddenly too small. I’m choosing to savor this age, to treasure him as a seven-year-old, and to hold onto these small, ordinary moments that feel so precious.