imperfect prose on thursdays: i do not own my sons

Sometimes it’s hard, knowing how to balance ourselves with our kids and our husband and the washing machine going 24-7.

Sometimes it’s about finding ourselves in the piles of laundry, in the peanut-butter kisses and the sticky hands trying to close your laptop when you’re working on a book, and all you want is five minutes please honey. And you say it. The words you swore you’d never say because your own mother said it too much: “Mommy’s busy, honey.”

Too busy for what? For molding minds and hearts and washing those beautiful chubby hands and staring into those big round eyes and reading story after story?

I get annoyed until I stop and see. Until I pick up my child and truly look at him. At the beautiful miracle that he is.

And it’s then I realize, he was trying to close my laptop because he’s scared. He’s scared because he’s growing desperately fast and he can’t keep up with his pant sizes and his mommy is missing it all. He’s scared because he needs her to hold his hand through it all, through lunch and breakfast and supper and “I snuggle, Mommy,” my oldest says, and I’m learning to see this.

Even as my eyes well with tears because I’ve missed so many moments already…

(join me over HERE at She Loves Magazine for the rest of this story? but first, please link your imperfect prose below! love you friends. thanks for grace.)

every wednesday and thursday, we gather together to celebrate redemption. here are the details:

1. link up a post (old or new) that you feel is ‘broken’ or ‘imperfect’ or somehow redemptive
2. put the ‘imperfect prose’ button at the bottom of your post, so others can find their way back here (see button code in right-hand column of my blog)
3. read other’s prose, and encourage them!

so won’t you join us, as we “walk each other home”? (ram dass)

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17 Comments

  1. Oh those precious moments. Irretrievable! Thanks for reminding me to retrieve them, grab them, hold them close….as mommy’s hold their sweet little boys in their arms.

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  2. discus won’t allow me on for some reason
    so i can’t leave a comment on the other site,
    but wanted to thank you for the peace and perspective
    i find when i wallow glad and hungry here:)
    grateful grace,
    Jennifer

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  3. Life sure is a balancing act! I don’t suppose we are actually meant to achieve that, are we? It’s in the striving to do right before God that grace is achieved… or something like that, right?

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  4. Those precious moments, once lost, can never be recovered. May God bless you for taking time for what’s important. Thanks for hosting & God bless!

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  5. Oh Emily, I wish I could sit and share a cup of coffee with you because what you wrote, “Inasmuch as we need to hold them and snuggle them and wipe their sticky fingers and read them story after story, we have to let them go.” – it terrifies me, but encourages me and challenges me, too.

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  6. “I snuggle Mommy.”
    Oh Emily, keep those moments. They are gone so fast. I do love every stage, but I find myself missing the baby and toddler years. I know they are exhausting and seem to never end. But they do. God gave me a great grace in that my baby girl (now 7) loves to snuggle. What a gift!
    PS Kasher’s belly in the photo of the boys in front of the corn stalks was AWESOME. Awesome, I tell you.

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  7. Oh, Emily…we’ll “just be a less effective woman. Christ within us. Christ among us. Christ in spite of us.”
    Thank you, friend, for today’s post.

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  8. Oh, thank you. Always blessed here–and I needed to be encouraged now, Emily. Now I’ll on over to read the rest! Thank you.

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  9. i love this.
    the never-ending conflict for all parents.
    i have no doubt, though, that you are a thoughtful and attentive parent.
    and those boys are soooo lucky.

    xo

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  10. I don’t believe it’s possible to be a mother and not experience the feeling of missing it. I believe it’s a universal trait of motherhood. They change so quickly, and even when you spend every moment cuddling and loving and watching and wiping the phases go so quickly.

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  11. It’s funny because I thought I missed so much when the kids were little, and I’m sure I did but God is so good and he lovely and with much grace brings to mind so many wonderful memories. One of my favorites is how clean they would smell after making a huge mess in the bathtub… God understands.

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  12. linked though I am a day late…

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  13. I’m new to your work (found your beautiful art on etsy, then found my way here) but just wanted to say thank you. I’m a rabbi, a mother (one beautiful headstrong perfect exasperating wonderful three-year-old), and a writer, and I can already tell that I’m going to love your work. Thanks for being out there.

    Reply
  14. Oh, wow. Wow, wow, wow. I need/ed to read this. Often.

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  15. Oh this tears at the heartstring, Emily! Despite my sons being independent adults and one of them due to become a father himself any day now, this transported me back to those far off days of trying to juggle being a wife, mother, homemaker and nurse. How often the balls were dropped at the impossibility of perfectly fulfilling each role. Now I can sense what was really needed was seeking to be perfectly present in the moment, in tune with the heartbeat of God as “Christ within us. Christ among us. Christ in spite of us”. Those precious childhood moments you describe pass terribly swiftly and it helps to know when to give in to those snuggly times with little ones that may not always be available to us. I am new here but enthralled by your beautiful, honest writing. Blessings to you and your sweet family. :) x

    Reply
  16. Hi, I am not sure how up to date this hop is? I left a link though to my most recent piece. Thanks for allowing us to share.

    Reply

i'm so glad you're here, friend. how are you?