First day of school. Everyone make it?

Whew.

Going on no sleep, anxiety attack late yesterday evening, hormones all messed up, with that all against my favor,  I think I did pretty good. Thank you Jesus!! Packed lunch last night, laid clothes out, even gave my two youngest baths!!! Score!!! Who needs sleep???

I was good. I swear. Got through the crazy traffic of high school drop off. I have a high schooler. Beat still my heart. Don’t go there if you don’t have to. Road rage avoided, cussing a minimum, I even let people go in front of me!! Score!!

Back home. Mind you they are digging up our street. Can’t use my driveway today. It is raining. Mud. Ahhhhh, we got this. Cut through the back yard. Parking in the back is nothing. I love the rain and the nourishment it provides for our crops and grass and flowers and my attitude.

Still together. Bagel had for breakfast, teeth brushed, dressed quickly like he actually wanted to go to school. My first grader is ready. First grader. What??? Ok. I’m starting to feel the wall crumbling. Time ticking. Drink more coffee. Distract yourself. Do something.

Made it to the van. Got gas. Even picked up a friends child for school. I got this!!!!

Everyone looking sharp with their new shoes and haircuts and book bags. We make it to the school’s street. Traffic. Again. Calm, Mom, be calm. Plenty of time. We make it to the circle drop off. I even let someone go in front of me, AGAIN!! Woot woot!! Score!! I slowly pull to a stop,  so they can get out. I say, “ok guys, have a good day, see you at three thirty.” My own child doesn’t want me to walk him in. I think I was expecting them to cling to me and not wanna go and cry and yea,  that didn’t happen.  I say a prayer for them in my head quickly as they exit. Do I have to pull away? Can’t I just sit here and gaze out the window and watch them walk in? Can’t I sit here and make sure they make it to their classroom? Can’t I stay for lunch? Can’t I hold his hand a while longer? Can’t I?

Pulling away was hard. It hits me. I feel the tears. As I quickly wipe them away, maybe so I won’t even notice I’m crying. Didn’t work. Then here come the words of advice from the backseat, my three year old matter of factly says, “Keep it together, Mom, keep it together…

Mannnnnnn…

Here come the sobs.

Father Time. Stop. Please. All my life I wished time away. Wanted to grow up, wanted to  be an adult, drive, drink, go to college, have kids, a family, pay bills….

Mannnnnnnn…

I can’t do this. I promised myself I wouldn’t. Keep it together?

Here we are. Raising our kids. Praying to God to keep them safe, holding on to every last drop, wishing for time to stop, or at least slow down. Kissing them goodbye no longer necessary because they don’t want our slobbery smooches. They don’t need to hold our hand like we want to hold theirs. We talk about sleepless nights raising babies, changing diapers, making bottles, letting them sleep with us just so we can get some much needed shut eye. We talk of teething and terrible twos and first words and what preschool to send them to.

Then all of a sudden, you’re left standing in your kitchen, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to comprehend how you have children growing up to be their own selves. Independent and with a voice of there own. With their own dreams and likes and desires. I should be proud, right?? I made it this far.

Mannnnnnnnnn…

I’m confused. I love them so much. I only want what’s best for them. Even when they’re almost twenty with a child of their own, out of the house, you just don’t stop being Mom. Ever.

I sit here and my heart is just expanding. I feel like it is going to explode. All the years of being a Mom are flashing right in front of me. I don’t know how I did it somedays. Or today.

I’m spinning. The love I have for them is overflowing, it is abundant. It breathes life into me. Even when they drive me nuts or choose unwisely or be their smart mouth teen selves or their headstrong preschooler self. When they need me and when they don’t. When they’re scared and hurt. When they are hungry and tired. When they are calm and collected. When they just are…

Mannnnnnnnnnn…

This reminds me of the love my Father God has for me. For them. For us. For everyone. Abundant. Overflowing. It breathes life into us.

How did I make it this far? Hmmmmmm, I wonder. Answered prayers. Unanswered prayers. Unconditional love. Divine intervention. Whether I was accepting or not. From afar, He was providing even when I thought it was just me. He watched me take my own path and He watched me fall. He knew my path before I even thought about having kids. These blessings that aren’t even mine to begin with. We are all His children, and if we are lucky enough to have kids, they are only borrowed by us for a short time.

No wonder I want time to stop. No wonder I want to hang on as long as I can. Not for their safety, but for my own. I mean what will I do without them? They are my security blanket, my identity, my life. I mean I gave them life…

Mannnnnnnnnnnn…

Did I?

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Sobs.

I have to stop there.

Thank you Father God. I am beyond blessed to call you my Father and to have this life handed to me. Forgive me for being scared and fearful and timid and untrusting of the power only you can provide. Thank you Father God, for my children. Thank you for all your children, those who know you and those who don’t. Thank you for providing even when I wasn’t trying to take your hand out. Thank you for the patience extended as I fumbled through the dark to find the light. As a woman, as a friend, as a wife, as a parent, as your daughter. Your daughter. I never thought I’d be able to understand that saying. A child of the one true king. That’s me. I am forever grateful of the changes you have provided in my life. Thank you for the blessings. Thank you for the heartaches. Thank you for the trials that only brought me closer to you. Thank you for these children, today as they go to school, and everyday, and as they make their own way through this journey called life. May they come to understand the truth about you and your love. May I be a vessel to pass on your love.  Thank you for the privilege to be called Mom. Thank you for the strength I found in you, as I made it through another “first”. Thank you in advance for the strength you’ll provide with the many more “firsts” to come. Help me to seek you, help me to rely on your power, not my own. Help me to not only have faith, but to exercise it, use it, build on it, keep it, and cherish it.

Give Grace A Hug❤️