Like most parents of young children, if I am not awakened by an alarm clock, then I am roused from slumber by my children, and this morning was no different. Afterwards I held my toddler in my lap, and she chirped energetically while I fumbled blindly with the remote control searching for a show to catch her interest. Coffee, beautiful coffee, was on my mind, and I knew I must obtain a cup at any cost.
As my two year old bounced happily in my lap I noticed she wasn’t pulled by the cartoon on the television at all, and I watched amused as she stared right back into my sleepy eyes. A smirk played across her perfect, pouty lips, and she made sing-song noises as she traced her hands along my face, as if she was memorizing my features by touch.
“Get up.” I said with a smile. “I gotta go make some coffee.” And I lifted her quickly from my lap.
But she answered, “I want to come with you,” in her musical tone, the grin never faltering from her face.
So I answered, “Come on, follow me.”
As we walked hand in hand towards the kitchen I couldn’t help but notice her excitement, and I felt that happiness swell within me that had started from the moment I held my first daughter. I felt needed, loved, but also more capable of love, more able to give of myself where needed. The thought then flitted through my mind, she won’t always want to follow you to the coffee maker, you know? Enjoy this.
“I wanna help!” She chimed as we entered the kitchen, pulling me from my thoughts, and she quickly set to work retrieving her pink step-stool.
Three pink step-stools. We currently had three pink step-stools scattered throughout the house, and they were constantly in high demand. A frequent cry around my house was, “I wanna help you, Momma,” and as I watched her scoot her stool to the counter my heart said, let her. She won’t always be so eager to help. Enjoy this.
Days around the house were often long, repetitive, and frustrating. Evenings after a long day at work were even worse, and the absolute last thing I needed or wanted was tiny bodies underfoot, getting in the way, making more messes, and distracting me from the task at hand.
Watch out! Don’t touch that! That’s hot!
That’s what often came out of my tired mouth.
Get down! Be still! Leave me alone!
That is what frequently escaped my frustrated, exhausted self.
Come on, follow me. Here, like this. Let Mommy show you how.
That’s what they needed to hear.
Get into my lap. Let me hold you. Let’s play.
Those are the words I would cherish having uttered when they no longer sat transfixed in my lap tracing their tiny, pudgy fingers across my puffy eyelids.
One day I would look down at my feet, and no one would be standing there looking up. One day I would look behind me to say, “come on, follow me,” but no one would be waiting to lend a hand. And as I watched my toddler excitedly spilling coffee grounds across the counter, I smiled through happy tears. I placed my hand upon hers, steadying her work, and I said softly, “here, let Momma show you how.”
The fact remains that motherhood is a tiring, draining, and difficult practice in continuous endurance, patience, and perseverance. It’s exhausting, frustrating, and worrisome. But it’s also rewarding, wonderful, and sadly, fleeting.
Too soon little footfalls would become the stomping feet of teenagers, and then fading echoes as they disappeared after a visit during the holidays. Tiny bodies that currently demand so much of me would one day become strong, adult women who called occasionally to ask my advice on cooking a roast.
For now, while I still could hold little squirming bodies there needed to be less “give me a minute’s,” and more “come on, follow me’s.” One day all I would have of their childhood was memories, and that’s what I wanted to remember.
One day the house would be beautifully, wonderfully clean, but also eerily, deafly silent. I would have all the time alone I needed. All the time in the world.
So until then I was determined to say, come on, follow me. While you still want to.
Come on, and follow me. Let me show you a shining example of God’s love, that your time is precious to me, and what is important in this life. May you always remember what you have learned, but especially one day when you too are weary. May you always know, no matter how old you get, that you are always welcome to come on and follow me.