I keep thinking about a passage I read a few weeks ago.

Often, I'll read a book and put it down, and over the next few days or weeks, a certain passage—one that didn’t particularly catch my attention as I was reading—will begin to echo in my head.

That just happened with Alix Kates Shulman’s memoir, Drinking the Rain. I read it, enjoyed it, put it on the shelf, moved on to my next book, Last Conversations of St. Therese.

But one paragraph has come to haunt me. Shulman is telling the story of her life and her marriage before she moved for the summer to a remote island. She recalls:

[I was] unable to imagine my life without the children, our dinners together, our elaborate projects, our afternoon walks, our late-night talks. And then one day—just like this, in the middle of the paragraph—they too were gone.

I keep thinking about that passage. It has given me a wistful nostalgia for my present life, which seems quite salutary.

Right now, I often feel overwhelmed by children. For example, the notion of reading a book for an hour without either being interrupted or falling asleep sounds like an impossible fantasy. There is so much activity, so many items on the schedule, so many objects to track, so much artwork to display, so many clanging toys.

When I find myself longing for peace and quiet, I remind myself—enjoy this time! The days are long, but the years are short. Soon enough, we won’t have broken crayons in every drawer, and I’ll feel terribly sad about the disappearance of the very things I’m complaining about now.

Comments

[Patti]

I agree with you - enjoy the now. Practice gratitude. A site that may interest you in your happiness research; http://www.dailygood.org/
It goes into detail about how gratitude is really, really good for you. It is the key to happiness. Close your eyes for a minute when the kids get noisy and practice gratitude.

[Jude]

I don't miss my children's young childhood at all. It was a horribly difficult time because I was working full time, my younger son was sick with asthma (he was hospitalized three times) and almost died from his then undiagnosed nut allergy, and I divorced my abusive husband (I thought he'd kill me, so I spent three slow years extricating myself). My sons are now 14 and 12, and life is much happier now. I did appreciate them then--my daughter acted as a scribe, writing down their cute sayings (Casey: Why is it called grapefruit? Joe: Because it tastes so great!). Dealing with teenagers (one on the cusp) can be difficult. But, as my son says, he can't imagine any other mother getting more excited about her sons growing taller than she is. I loved every stage, but it's *so* much easier now (until the next crisis....).

[Melinda]

Oh My God!! Story of my life. Having twin boys that are going to be three this Spring, I feel like I'm losing my mind half the time. Well, make that most of the time. Many times I find myself thinking "when are we going to all feel sane again?"...and then yesterday, I went to check out a school for them next year. All the children seemed so tall and big and independent, but they are only a year older than my children are. I almost started to cry at the realization that this time really is so fleeting. I came home with a renewed conviction to look at my days with an appreciation for the chaos that is my life.

[Sharyn]

Boy, are you preachin' to the choir on this one! My son is in his second year of college and my daughter will be there soon. I won't bore you with the "enjoy them while they're young" refrain, but I will say that every stage has it's wonderfulness, and also it's "I'm glad that's in the past" points. It's also great to experience them as young adults, and look back to how they (and you) made it there.

On gratitude, I love something I heard last week: "To have gratitude is riches, complaint is poverty". And I'm grateful for your Blog - it enriches my life.

[Inihtar]

I was bloghopping and came across your blog. I love the idea of Tip Wednesdays!

On this post--I don't have kids, but I think, in general, many people have a sense of being on a journey, and we want to get to the next phase of our lives. So with kids, it's looking forward to when they're older so we can sleep more or read a book in peace. Or with jobs, it's getting that promotion, or that better job, so we've more money or are more satisfied. But, sometimes, it's only when we get to that next phase that we look back realize that things weren't all that bad where we were before, and wish we'd enjoyed that time a bit more.

[CC]

Love this entry, (and your blog as a whole - wonderful endeavor as a whole with so many gems, what a find!).

Here was my moment of clarity on the subject several years ago: I'm sitting on the side of the bathtub trying to coach an unwilling 3 and a half year old to potty train (with a special mix of frustration, desperation, guilt and sense of failure for ditching the kinder/gentler "potty learning" philosophy once she got over 3 years old). My 18 month old is complaining of a tummy ache, so I'm trying to keep her close to the bathtub in case she is going to throw up. I am exhausted because said 18 month old still does not sleep through the night. This is my day off from a job that has gone from demanding to overwhelming since the birth of my second child. I'm wearing 7 year old sweats where the fabric is starting to fray around the wasteline and the elastic is showing through and a stained t-shirt.

I look down at myself, then look at the side of the tub that is covered in soap crayon scribbles, the soap crayon being the closest this tub has been to getting cleaned in several weeks. I have one of those feelings of "so this is my life, this is what it's come to."

And I don't know why, but I take another look at the soap crayon. Vibrant scribbles in red, yellow, green, blue. Used up little crayons on the edges of the tub that really should be thrown away. Kind of scummy bath toys. And it hits me, out of the blue. This is my dream come true. Literally. While this life as mom to young children is not *all* I ever wanted, it is what my heart wanted most. It was one of the first dreams I articulated. And here it is, realized, in all of it's messy, frustrating, exhausting glory. It's hard to describe how profound that moment was, but I have carried it with me since.

And now, I often rely on that moment of clarity. When I lose my cool, or just want a vacation from my life, I stop and think, "but this is my dream come true." I wanted it all, and now I have it. Some days it is too much, but it is still all mine, pretty much just the way I wanted it. It's a rich life. I say it until I feel it, because once I feel it, I believe it.

[kstyle]

Every time I read your blog and others where young often working moms are involved I think how absolsutely amazing and wonderful it would have been to have had this outlet and way of connecting when my boys were small. Just sharing and realizing that you're not alone with your truant thoughts or chaotic days is half the battle in getting through to the next wonderful ones. I would have really loved that and I probably could have avoided the class "coping with toddler power" if I could have been blogging about it. k

[StephanieWestAllen]

As I mentioned on my blog, it is National Delurking Week. I simply wanted to take this opportunity to make sure you know that I read and very much appreciate your blog. I look forward to more in 2007. Thanks, Gretchen!

[Monica Ricci]

Gretchen this is one of my favorite of your blog entries. I have no children, but your insights make me feel like a little girl as I sit here longing for my mama. She'll be gone three years next week. As fleeting as you feel your time with your kids is, I'm having that same feeling about the time I spent with my mom. She was so young.

The older I get, the more I really think one of our life lessons is to learn to be grateful and present to *whatever* we're experiencing at that time. Sometimes it's hard. Boy do I know that. But it's a good exercise in self-development, so I keep at it! :) ~Monica

[Chris Yeh]

Abraham Lincoln's favorite phrase seems to be appropriate here: This too shall pass.

While early childhood is grueling for the parents, it is also something that they can only enjoy once.

[alex]

A perfect post for me today.

My daughter is home from school (MLK day.) I've been a little tense about it, since Monday is my catch up day, and this day in particular I have loads of catching up to do.

Now I think I'll turn off this box and go and break some crayons with her. :-) Great site. Thanks for doing it.