Missing the Little Years

recently i've seen a lot of those sweet, tear-jerker-cartoony 

 sayings posted on pinterest and facebook,

all about motherhood.

you know the ones -

 they say stuff like:

be thankful for the laundry,

you'll miss it whens it's gone.

or 

these sweet days and grubby handprints will vanish all too soon.

 or 

the mess and crying and tantrums will be over,

and you'll find your house sadly quiet.

       and,

it's lateish and i'm tired.

but...

i don't believe the sayings.

 

if you've read my blog for anytime or know me,

i hope that you get that i'm really a  

mainly positive, cherish-every-minute kinda mom.

i hope that you get that i'm pretty laid back,

and we paint and run and dart gun and jump of the couch and over the ottoman 

and i'm really {mostly} okay with it all.

 but still,

i don't believe all the cutesy sayings,

and i kinda feel like they're out to make moms out there feel guilty.

because really?

my laundry room,

with 2 piles of wet towels in front of the washer, 

kid clothes currently in the washer that i just did a quick wash on again because they had sat in there way too long,

and a load of sheets in the dryer that i just hit fluff on?

i won't miss them.

the 45 minutes that i just did dishes?

won't miss it.

the crumbs that i just cleaned up off the floor for the 284th time today?

i will be happy when the floors stay clean. truly, deeply happy.

crumbs make me crazy.

      but you know? after months of seeing these cartoons,
and thinking and dwelling and thinking on them all, 

i've decided it's the backstory that those cartoons are really talking about.

that backstory?

that is what i WILL miss.

you see,

the wet towels in front of the laundry are from the kids playing with spoons and bowls and tupperware and water and vinegar and baking soda and eyedroppers making {formulas}. 

 my sweet-6-year-old was making a "rock" collection out of the baking soda reactions.

that? them sitting and playing at the kitchen island

 and hearing their chatter while i prep supper?

i'll miss.

the reason i had to fluff the wrinkled sheets?

we stayed outside on a suprisingly warm winter day,

and the kids shoveled and scooped and dug in the melting ice and snow, 

and they piled it and pushed it around in the stroller.

my sweet three-year-old became insistant on pulling the wagon through the ice,

and even strapped in her bear that rode along.

that? the laughing outside and running from my 6-year-old

 as he tries to shove snow down my coat?

i'll miss.

the crumbs on the floor are from the bread and potato soup we had for dinner, where both kids preceded to eat just the inside of the dinner rolls, not the crust.  grant thought it looked like a cave, and grace ended up shoving all the crust in her mouth all-at-once.

that? the sweet dinner time, sharing what we're thankful for from the day? hearing my 6-year-old pray a pray for his dad's back that was hurting?

i'll miss.

i promise i won't miss the actual towels and crumbs and toys and paper and hats and gloves strewn on the floor.  i promise i won't miss the actual crying-through-a-store and takes-18-minutes-to-get-into-the-car-to-go-anywhere process.

i won't miss the nitty-gritty-stuff of this raising kids business.

but, the backstory behind the nitty-gritty?

i'll miss it. 

always and forever,  

        i'll miss it.