What I Need To Learn Today

The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make . . . I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture [of my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of a swingset on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. -- Anna Quindlen

I have loved this quote since I first read it a few years ago, and I've been thinking so much about this very concept, as I must admit I do very often . . . especially lately, after discussing it a few times with a good friend.

This sentiment describes me perfectly, and it scares me to admit that. I am often so caught up in the "getting it done" that I miss out completely on the moments, moments that are fleeting by so fast I can't even believe it.

I need order to function. I don't do well in chaos, like when the house is a mess or the kids are running around like crazy. I am a much happier mom when things are in place. But, I need to learn some balance. It's not going to matter to me that the house was always clean when my kids are grown up and gone. Of course, the house has to be kept clean, but I can find creative ways to make sure that happens without being all nuts about it -- and making those I live with nuts as well.

What I need is to be more conscious of what I'm doing and saying. I need to stop thinking about all the things I need or want to be as a mother and start doing them! What's so hard about it?

Julie Beck, Relief Society General President has said that "mothers [who know] plan for the future of their organization," which to me means consciously creating the home environment I so desperately want and my children so desperately need. This means more bearing of testimony, more teaching the Gospel, more inviting the Spirit, more hugs and kisses, more kind words.

Sometimes I lie in bed and cry, thinking about the time to come, when these wonderful little people I am privileged to mother are no longer little. Chris teases me, saying I shouldn't waste the time I have now worrying about something that is so far in the future . . . but I know it's not really that far away. Every night I pray that Heavenly Father will help me grow as they grow, to help me prepare for that inevitable time in the not-so-distant future when I will no longer have them here, within my grasp, all day every day.

There is nothing so remarkable as the indescribable joy that comes with being a mother, which of course necessitates the agonizing pain that must be risked in order to experience it. I'm thankful for that opposition, even when it hurts.

Today I pledge to enjoy the moment more, and hopefully a little more every day. I will spend more time cuddling and kissing and whispering and less time vacuuming, washing, and worrying. What else really matters?