Rejected!

Today I received my first rejection email as a writer.

To say that I'm upset is an understatement. I am morose. I feel dejected. Both my heart and my head hurt.

I guess I should have started this in another way. Hold on. Let me start over.

Hello, friends. Happy Wednesday! How is everyone today? Me? Well, that's a little complicated.  Please, let me explain.

Many of you know me, but some of you don't, so let me introduce myself. My name is Ami Crowder: wife, mother, and blog writer. We have recently moved from Illinois to Florida to start our lives over. It's not going as well as I'd hoped. 

Do you remember when you were little, and everyone would ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up? I remember. I only ever said one thing: "Teacher!" I said it as loud and proud as I could to anyone who would listen. To me, there was no better life than being a teacher. I loved everything about school, and I wanted to spend my life there.

Clear-cut and decisive! Yes! I know what I want to be, now let's do it! Nothing was going to get in my way.

(Do you hear God laughing right now? You really should hear it. He's absolutely rolling on the floor.)

Did I become a teacher? No, I did not. To sum up, life happened. Life often goes its own way, and we just hang on for the ride. Plans get pushed aside, dreams get postponed, and priorities change. 

It's okay.

Really.

 I love my life and my family. But, now that our children are older, I'm trying to pursue some of my own hopes and dreams. I have recently re-enrolled in college to become a teacher. It's a monumental step forward, and it makes me both excited and nervous. I'm sure to be the oldest person in all of my classes, but that's fine by me. It's inspirational to see people who refuse to give up on their dreams, and my girls are watching. 

So, why am I bemoaning being rejected today? 

Sigh.

I love to write and read what other people have written. All. Of. It. I read everything, and have always had an affinity for reading and writing. It came so easily to me, that I thought that this surely must be why I couldn't decide on what to do with the rest of my life.

I WAS REALLY MEANT TO BE A WRITER!

So, instead of making poor decisions and having life interrupt my dreams, I thought I was just chasing the wrong one. So, it's okay if those other things passed me by, because I was really meant to be a writer.

The rejection felt like a slap in the face. Did I really get it wrong again, God? What is your plan for me? Where do I belong? Why did you make me this way if I can't use what you've given me?

But, the truth is, I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. That sounds so silly coming from an adult, doesn't it? I'm going to school to become a teacher. I do love writing, and someday I hope to finish my novel. I enjoy this blog. Naturally, I'm a curious person and interested in so many things. My girls laugh at me because I enjoy Ted Talks. I listen to them for fun. Imagine! 

But, what if we're not meant to be just one thing?

In life, we wear many "hats." I'm not just a wife, I'm also a mom, sister, daughter, friend, aunt...  

The list goes on and on. So, why do we approach our careers as if there can only be one, quickly picking the first thing that interests us and sticking with it for life? Why do we think we are supposed to have our whole lives figured out at 18 or 20 and never change? I can tell you that I've changed a great deal since I was 18. I could never have imagined the direction my life has taken, both good and bad. 

We try so hard to plan it all out, don't we? We try to control everything and hope that we will achieve our idea of success. But, what is success? The definition of that changes as we get older and our priorities change. So, the idea that we can see what will make us look and feel successful throughout our lives when we are only 18 is really absurd. Why do we pressure ourselves into trying to have it all figured out anyway? Part of the joy in life is the journey.

I have to admit, when I started writing this today, I was having a really rotten day. I felt like a failure at life. Some days are just like that, I guess. What if every time something unexpected happens in life, I just yell, "Plot twist!" and move on? That might change my perspective a bit. Unfortunately, change happens, and it's not always what we would consider for the better.  Sometimes, we might even feel like we've hit rock bottom, but that doesn't mean we have to stay there. One of my favorite authors is very open about this subject, and sums it up nicely.

Rebuilding a life is tough. It's a lot easier if we cut ourselves some slack, and realize that we don't have to have it all figured out. I'm working on it. Meanwhile, God will be there for me, and so will my amazing support system of friends and family. They make it possible to pursue my dreams and go after what I want. 

Jonah Hill in Superbad

Being rejected can be one of the worst things to ever happen to you, or you can use it as a turning point. It's up to you. As for me, I'm going to use this rejection as a lesson in what not to do, learn to be a better writer, and move on.

What about you? 

Do you have an amazing rejection story? Let me know in the comments below.

The Weight of What If...

There is an unmistakable commonality between all parents. We live each day as if we can control our children's lives. When they're little, we tell them what to eat, what to wear, what to do, and even who to be friends with. We tell them these things out of a desire to love and protect them. We, the parents, obviously know what's best. We are in charge here. So, we continue giving directions to our little ones every day, instilling lifetime values and good nutrition. Fruit snacks count as fruit, right?

As our children grow, so does our sense of unease. We just can't shake it. We are still handing out direction to our little ones, but they don't always listen. Sometimes they believe they are right and dig in. Toddlers can reduce even the mightiest parent to his or her knees. Suddenly, they gain the understanding that there are choices, and thus begins the mightiest struggle of our parenting careers.

As a mom with anxiety, I can tell you that "what if?" is the biggest question I face every day. When our girls were babies, I read everything I could get my hands on to keep the what ifs at bay. Knowing what was normal helped me to understand when something was abnormal. Of course, no book can tell you everything you need to know or everything that might happen, but reading helped me to do something when seemingly nothing else could be done. Granted, every parent does this differently, so my experience is probably different from yours, but we all do it. We try to calm our anxiety over the unknown by doing what we think is best.

So, what happens when what you know to do isn't enough? What happens when all of your experience and knowledge amount to nothing but vain attempts at gaining control over an uncontrollable situation?

I believe this is the unspoken fear of all parents.

Not being able to take care of our children when they need it the most can be utterly devastating. We feel we are failing at our life's biggest responsibility. Not only is our child going through a tough time, but we find ourselves also in a weird state of unrest. No matter what we do, it is not enough.

I'm finding myself at this very place today and for the last few weeks. 

For the last few weeks, my baby has been sick. She has had a cold, sinus infection, diarrhea, and bronchitis. She just can't shake it. She's had two rounds of antibiotics, prednisone, cold meds, cough meds, constant nebulizer treatments, and all the Popsicles, warm drinks, soup, and love one mama can pour into one child. I've done all I can. So, what is the thing that haunts me?

Wondering if this...

My little one and her nebulizer

is going to turn into this.

Hospital stay 2018

This is such a deep fear for me, friends. My baby has asthma. Cold and flu season is hard for her. It is so hard for her, it is one of the many reasons we uprooted our family and moved from Illinois to Florida. We had hoped the milder weather would be good for her. And it has been until now. She had been doing so well that her pulmonologist took her off of her meds for the summer. That was such a major win for the girl who has been taking several meds a day since she was seven. 

The weight of the what ifs has become so heavy, friends. So, what am I supposed to do? How can I let this go? That's the question, isn't it? How do we let something so important go, even when we know there is nothing we can do about it? This is just my story. I know some of you carry different burdens that are just as heavy. The answers are non-existent and the worry is real. What can we do when nothing can be done?

When I know there is nothing left that I can do, I have to trust that God has this all under control. I might never understand why things work out the way they do, but it gives me great hope to know that someone else sees the whole picture and is working things out for the best. What else can I do? There will always be things that I cannot control. Praying and hoping are sometimes all that are left. It has to be enough for me. Otherwise, the what ifs in life will drive me crazy. I do what I can, and trust God for the rest. But, I know not everyone believes in the same things I do. 

What about you?

I would love to hear your story. How do you overcome the what ifs in life? What sustains you when you've done all you can? Let me know in the comments.

Strong for Too Long

I don’t know about you, but my news feed has been overflowing with witty little quips about positive mental health all week. And you know what? I LOVE IT. I love that people are finally TALKING about positive mental health. I love that we can support one another through likes, shares, and positive comments. I love that mental health has become a huge topic for conversation.

But...

I’m afraid that the conversation is just that-a conversation.

I’m doubtful that all the people reading and liking posts are able to believe what they read.

I’m hesitant to believe that any of this is making a difference.

Do you know why?

We live in a world where we are constantly inundated with inspirational quotes, yet so few of us believe what we post or see.

I am 1 in 4. 

I take an antidepressant every day, and recently had to up the dosage with my doctor. 

I’m one of those people that all of these quotes are aimed at. I love reading them, but they don’t change what I feel inside.

I still struggle not to feel like a burden when my autoimmune disease acts up.

I still struggle with wanting to be perfect, even though I know that’s not possible.

I still get crippling anxiety every time my big girl has a bad day or when my little one gets sick.

I still try to be everything to everyone until my body literally starts shutting down.

I’m anxious, frightened, and melancholy some days.

NO MATTER WHAT.

So, what can we do?

First, I think we ALL need to realize that literally NO ONE has it all together. No one is showing the hard parts of their lives on social media. We try to put our best foot forward, right? For whatever reason, we all know this but, we refuse to believe it. Comparison is the thief of joy,but most of us spend our days comparing our worst days to everyone else's best. No one else can live our lives for us, so we MUST stop acting like everyone’s opinion counts.

Second, we have to care for ourselves, especially on the days we feel the absolute worst. A little walk, a hot shower, a healthy meal, or listening to your favorite song can do AMAZING things for you. I have a tendency to visit the kitties at the animal shelter. I pet and love on them, and we both benefit. WHATEVER makes your little heart happy is self care.

Lastly, we need to destigmatize mental health. We would NEVER fault a cancer patient for receiving care for their illness. The same should be true of mental health. Our bodies work together in a system. Not one part is shameful. Why do we act like our brains are somehow different? Like, only the weak can have broken brains, but broken legs, well that just happens.

REALLY?!?

Mental illness is not a sign of weakness. It’s the brain’s way of signaling that something is wrong. Just like bruising, breaking, burning, and hurting signals something wrong with bones, organs, or muscles.

The positive take away from all of this? I actually have a great deal of hope, and so do many others fighting the fight. The future of brain science is exciting! More is being discovered about how and why the brain works every day. There is promising research on concussions, chemical imbalances, Alzheimer’s, tumors, and just how the brain works in general. 

To all of my fellow sufferers, I say keep on hoping. Don’t give up, because there is hope. Also,

 YOU ARE NOT A BURDEN! 

To all of our friends and supporters, please check on us. Don’t give up on us. We miss our old selves, too.

*I am not a mental health professional. These are just my thoughts and opinions. Please seek out a licensed professional if you are in need of mental health services.

If you are having a hard time and are contemplating hurting yourself, please reach out. 

It’s Today. Again.

Today is 9/11. 

I find myself doing the same thing today that I’ve been doing every September 11th since 2001: I’m watching and remembering. Many people probably wonder why I would even want to spend my day listening to survivor stories and memorials for the dead. I often wonder why I’m drawn to disasters and tragedies. I want to hear the stories. I want to feel the sadness and fear. I want to root for the survivors. I want to know how it ends. 

I want to learn the lessons.
.

So, what lessons have I learned, or am I learning, from 9/11?

Foremost, and most importantly, I have learned about love. There is no replacement 

for my family and friends. They should be treated as the most important people in my life because they are. None of us live on this earth forever, so we should cherish the ones God gave us while we have them. 

Next, I’ve learned that everyone has a story, and they’re all different. No two people share the same story, even though they may go through the same experiences and share the same home. Every single person going through this life has a unique perspective, unique challenges, and unique pain. It is a serious disservice to humanity to assume that everyone is the same. We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. And different.

One of the most complicated lessons from 9/11 can be summed up in one word: freedom.

Freedom is such a difficult concept. Most Americans define freedom very differently than the rest of the world. We associate freedom with rights and privileges that we enjoy under our system of government. But, freedom is not just something that government bestows upon us, we are born with it.
It is innate. 

It’s the thing that allows us to help others when we can. It’s what allows us to figure out what we want in life and go after it. It’s the thing that lets us go where we want, say what we want, do what we want, and be who we want to be. Recent times have made many of us forget what freedom really looks like. After 9/11, things have changed so drastically that many contend that we are no longer free as Americans. To that, I say that those people don’t really understand how freedom works. It’s not a set of laws telling us what we can and cannot do, but a state of mind.

What we think, we are.
Or become. 
Or something lofty sounding like that. 

Do we truly believe we are free? How do we secure or maintain that freedom? I believe there is nothing in life that we can’t change. We have the freedom to pursue change in ourselves and the world around us. 

Through love, compassion, empathy, and kindness we can learn the lessons of 9/11. We can use our freedom to change the world, starting with our own lives and families. Life is too short to do otherwise. Make the changes, and do the hard work. 

Be the change.

Lastly, I’d like to leave you with one of my favorite quotes from Mother Theresa which sums up these lessons in a way that only she could.

Time Will Tell

Me at 17

Me at 41

Time flies when you're having fun.

That's what people say, right? What if time flies even if you're not having fun, or if you're just having an okay time? Does it fly even when life is terrible?

Yes, I believe it does.

Lately, I seem to have lost my voice. It feels like life is just happening to me, with very little participation on my part. Every day there is some new catastrophe or urgent matter that requires my immediate attention, and I find myself going through the motions just trying to keep up.

Has that ever happened to you?

No matter what is happening to us in our lives, time marches on. I have never been the person who wants to go back and relive my glory days because I believe my glory days are still being written. However, like everyone else, there are some days I would love to replay.

What I wouldn't give to go back and hold my babies and smell their sweet heads! (Why did I have to be so tired?)

I'd love to relive my way-too-quick wedding. (Do weddings actually last longer than 5 minutes?) 

Can I  breathe in my last first kiss? (Don't you wish you could know when it was the last one?) 

Talking to my grandpa again would be such a gift. (I still miss him.) 

Life is made up of so many breathtaking moments, but it's hard to know when those moments will arrive. Or what to do when we get there. So, we look back with fondness, nostalgia, and sometimes a little (or a lot) of regret.

The last year of my life has been crazy. There is no other word for it. Our little family has been dealing with some very personal issues, and then we moved into a totally new time zone. Everything about our lives has changed.

Well, almost everything.

Today I am celebrating 22 wonderful years with my dear husband. We met and began dating in college seventy eons ago when the world was still fresh with promise and mystery.

Some people didn't think we were right for one another. We were both so immature and young (I was 19, he was 21.) Some people had downright nasty things to say about our relationship. I'm sad to say that even after all this time I can still remember these things. I guess it's hard for some people to believe that you can meet and fall in love with your soul mate in a flash, but I knew almost from the beginning that he was the one for me.

You see time has a way of telling her secrets. Oh, it might take a while, but eventually, everyone else knows what you knew from the start. All of the nasty fades away, and all that is left is the love and the memories.

I think this was taken the Christmas before our engagement. Johnny has always had such a great sense of humor. He makes this otherwise quite serious girl laugh so often.

Neither one of us knew at this point in time, that I was already sick with my autoimmune disease. It would affect so much of our lives in the coming years. It didn't matter. We were happily married 5 years after we started dating. We also moved away from everyone that we knew and loved to start our new life together where John had just gotten his first job as a teacher.

Three years, and three miscarriages later, our first beautiful girl was born. We never knew how painful those first three years of marriage would be, never knew that my body was fighting itself for survival. We thank God for this girl and hope that the worst of it is over, but sadly, another miscarriage happened before we were blessed with this girl.

After daughter number 2, we are done with growing our family. Together these girls bring us more joy and heartbreak than we ever knew existed. They become our lives, and time marches on. 

I look at these photos of myself and my love, and I wonder about the woman in them. It's funny how you can simultaneously be both the photo and yourself. In retrospect, I can see so much life in these pictures, so much love. I also see a much darker picture of my illness. 

One of my biggest livelong struggles has been my weight. Since I started to become ill while still in high school, I never realized that there could be a reason for this struggle. I just thought it was how my body was changing as I aged. I never knew that an autoimmune disease could be responsible for my arthritis, my gallstones, my depression and anxiety, my miscarriages, my weight gain, my decreasing mental abilities, my hysterectomy, or my loss of zeal for life.  

When I look at these photos now, they tell a different story. This last photo was taken in August on my 17th wedding anniversary. This man standing beside me? He's my rock. He's never wavered in his commitment to me or our family, even when my illness was at my worst.

I look back through these photos and see a beautiful love story, but I also see a life well lived.  I can see the shadow of illness, but I also see the glow of grace. It's amazing how time has a way of helping us to see the complete story and the story yet unwritten. What an amazing dichotomy! 

So many people are struggling to make it through the next day, the next week, the next month. I get it. Truly. My little march down memory lane has brought me some newfound perspective, though.

Life is never what you expect it to be.

The last year of my life has been so full of ups and downs, I have found myself lost in the whirlwind of time. I have caught myself coming and going to get everything that I thought was important done so I could move on to the next important thing.

I have come to realize that it is all a mirage.

We struggle to get to the next thing and realize once we get there that something else is waiting just up ahead. If we're not careful, we can spend our whole lives always struggling to make it to the next big thing while never realizing that it's the journey that counts the most. 

Looking back, we remember the journey of life and very few moments.

I think all mothers can remember their babies, but very few of us remember specific nights the baby cried all night. We all remember being teenagers, but few of us remember every single time we were mortified beyond belief. Most of us remember being in love, but few of us remember all the arguments along the way. 

Time has a way of making us forget the specifics and remember the journey. 

Right now, I can't remember every single Keto or not Keto thing I've eaten for the last 10 months, but I remember feeling better. I can't remember every bad thing that happened on our journey to our new home, but I remember how exciting it was. I can't remember every little thing from the last year, but I remember joy.

 I remember life. 

Will this part of my life be like so many others, just a moment to remember, or something transformational for my journey?

Like so many other moments, only time will tell. 

Broken

My friends, I think the most clearly when I can drag things out of my brain either through my hands by writing, or when I can talk about them with someone else. I bet you can guess which one gets me into the least amount of trouble. 😉 I'm trying, but I can't seem to process all of the ugliness and pain that I witness on a daily basis anymore. My heart has reached its threshold, and all of the hate and strife has become too much. 

Jesus, please help!

My life is currently undergoing some major changes and obstacles. As many of you know, our family is planning a move to Florida after the end of the school year. We have many reasons for the move, although health issues and opportunities for our family top the list. My husband and I made the decision during this past summer after much prayer and research, and we are confident in our decision. All of that being said, we were very concerned about Hurricane Irma. Not only does most of my husband's family live in Florida, but our new home is there as well. We had several stressful days of worry about them, and as selfish as it sounds, about our decision to go. While everything turned out okay for our family, the state still has a long path of recovery ahead, and we will be moving right into it. I'd love to say that I have enough faith to not worry about what it means for our family, but that would be a lie. It is disconcerting, to say the least, to take your family into the unknown.

To add to the stress of preparing to move so far away, my Hashimoto's disease has decided to flare up. I've had several sick days, including having to leave work with an anxiety attack a couple weeks ago and a trip to the ER this past weekend. I despise this disease! It makes me exceedingly weak and dependent upon so many others. Of all of the emotions that I feel when I'm sick, the most prevalent is guilt. I feel guilty that my husband has to take on so many of my responsibilities. I cringe thinking about what my girls might be dealing with or missing out on because of my inabilities. Our home is a wreck most of the time, and I doubt all of my work. Honestly, my pride is probably the biggest loser in the whole situation, and my prayer life is the biggest winner. 

Daughter #1 is also dealing with some pretty significant issues at the moment. She is under a doctor's care, so we prayerfully place our most precious blessings into God's hands once again. Our younger daughter's tween season is in full bloom. On any given day you can find me both laughing at her whimsical personality and wanting to ship her off to Grandma for an attitude adjustment. She's lucky she's so lovable! My husband really doesn't like it when I talk about his issues, so suffice it to say that he's got a lot on his plate being a public school teacher in a state where educators are not valued and children are becoming less teachable.

I presented this glimpse into my family's lives for a reason. I don't know what people think about me; it's not really any of my business. But, I do know what I think about myself, and right now I'm a hot mess! My heart is pulled into a million places at the same time, and then it's being torn apart. And it's not just thinking about my family that has me all shook up. Our little town, state, and nation are filled with disasters, controversies, and worries galore. Rumors of school shootings, taxes, budgets, protests, hurricanes, earthquakes, North Korea, Trump, the NFL fiasco, healthcare......

The list could go on and on, and what's an average person to do? While all of this is happening around us, our private lives do not stop. We still have to get up every day and face our responsibilities. Unfortunately, many of us are heading into each day defeated before we even start. The stakes are so high in our personal lives that we cannot bear any more weight from society, or we will break. 

My friends, I believe that is what has happened to many of us, myself included. 

We are broken.

We have filled ourselves with more than we can take, and instead of overflowing, we break. There is so much evidence of brokenness in the world: abused children, homeless veterans, battered women, addiction, and now the non-stop barrage of hate on social media. All of the hurt, suffering, and pain in our lives needs an outlet. While many people find healthy means of expression, so many of us do not. We hide, lash out, or escape by whatever means possible. Unfortunately, our coping mechanism usually just causes more pain. We humans are so fragile. We pretend to be invincible, but our brains and bodies tell us differently. We can't sleep. Our faces break out. We don't eat, or we eat too much. Our bodies get sick. Our hearts stop working right. Suddenly, we have a hard time even getting out of bed. 

What, if anything, can we do then to repair what has been broken inside of us? The Japanese have an art form that I find fascinating. It is called Kintsugi. They repair broken objects with something precious, like gold.

The broken objects then become beautiful and unique. Kintsugi teaches that broken things can become beautiful if repaired properly. I love this idea! Just think about what you would look like if all of your brokenness could be repaired with something precious! I imagine I would look something like this.....

All joking aside, what can we, as humans and not pottery, do to fix our brokenness? I know my futile attempts to fix myself are just that, futile. While opinions differ on this matter greatly, I propose one simple solution: we look up. Instead of wallowing in all that this world is heaping upon us, what if we focus on something bigger than ourselves? God's Word has some interesting things to say about brokenness. 

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. God genuinely cares when we can't go on. He wants to help us when the journey gets too rough. He knows we can't do it on our own. 

My sweet friends, may I leave you with one final thought for today? What would your world look like if you let God heal you like a piece of Japanese pottery? Would you still see the rough and ugly pieces of your broken life? Or, instead, would you see the beauty of a life glued back together with Jesus' precious blood? I know life is hard. No one has it all together, despite how things appear from the outside. We are all broken in some way. Knowing this, it should make it easier for us to listen to others and practice kindness. The way we treat others matters.

Broken people sometimes act in broken ways.

If you or someone you know need help, please call:

The Age of Letting Go

My sweet friends, I hope you've had a wonderful summer. While it may still be in full swing in other locations, it's back to school time here. It hardly seems possible. Where did the summer go? Wasn't it just Memorial Day?!?

No, it wasn't. Our kids have been home from school for almost three whole months. It's weird to think of it that way, isn't it? Our kids spend a full quarter of the year home with us, a whole season almost.

I remember the summers of my youth. They went by so S L O W L Y. Summer took forever. Not that it was a bad thing. Baseball games, trips to the lake, camping, fishing, picnics, and occasional vacations made the summer a blissful time of my childhood.

I wonder sometimes how our children will remember their childhood summers. Our family is not wealthy, so huge and extravagant vacations don't generally happen in our home. We usually try to do something new and fun with the kiddos every year, though. Will they remember all the trips to the park? Will they remember our first plane ride? Will they remember the many trips to Grandma's? I wonder.

This summer has gone by in a blur. The beginning of summer was consumed by softball and volleyball practices, and then games. But since 4th of July......nothing. I can't remember doing much for the rest of the summer. We went to the park today. Does that count? We went to the pool. We went to the library. The second half of our summer was full of the mundane, I guess. The everyday of life was about all we accomplished. Was it enough?

You might be wondering what has brought on this new wave of concern over our kiddos' childhood experiences. Well, today I got a very rude awakening from my dear soon-to-be teenager.

She's not little any more.

My sweet babies are no longer babies. My girls will be starting the fourth and seventh grades this year.

You see, my time is running out.

I, like every other mother on the planet, have forgotten the most important lesson of motherhood-we only get them for so long. They're not ours to keep. They're only on loan from our loving Creator.

You know God must have quite a sense of humor. He hands us these little pink balls of screaming and crying and stink, and he makes us instantly fall in love with them. So we care for them, nurture them, love them, and teach them. We pour ourselves into these tiny beings like it's our life's only purpose. As they grow, we finally get to rest a bit as they start to do things for themselves. We become comfortable in this phase.

Life is good.

Now, I understand that everyone's motherhood journey is different, and it is not all wonder and beauty. Sometimes it's downright awful and we pray for bedtime or nap time or TV time or whatever gets us through the day. But, looking back, something strange has happened. I find that most of the awful has faded away into the mist, and the beauty is what stands out most. Bedtime stories, dinner time talks, tickles, giggles, and snuggles are what I remember the most. To my fellow moms still in the toddler stages, you really will miss some of it. I promise.

God, in his infinite wisdom (and I'm not saying that sarcastically,) has decided that we must move on from this time of comfort. We have entered into a new phase in our parenting journey, and I must say, I'm not really fond of it yet.

We have entered into the age of letting go. 

You know, I thought we were already doing this as we went along. Children as they grow go through so many milestones and changes, you find yourself constantly adjusting to what is happening now, and letting go of what has gone before. A great example would be trusting your kid to quietly play without burning the house down, or letting them play outside without you. When they were toddlers, these things would be unthinkable, but as they grow, we open our hands a bit and they step out on their own a little. As they master these little things, we keep giving them bigger and bigger things. Little by little they are learning to stand on their own. This is how I thought we were parenting. Little did I realize that we were teaching them to live without us, and teaching ourselves to let go.

Man, it's so hard!

I remember standing at the door watching my girls playing outside, and trying not to let them see me. I remember fielding calls from my big girl at every sleepover. I remember waiting outside for them to come back from riding their bikes. If only it could continue to be that easy....

I'm not a fool. I know what awaits me. I know that sleepovers are nothing compared to dates. I know bike rides can't even come close to car rides. And I don't even want to think about college. But tonight as my near teenager pushed me away and meant it, something broke within me. It hit me like a ton of bricks how very little time we have left with these sweet, crazy girls.

We have six summers left with our big girl. Six summers of childhood, and she'll be gone. My heart is having a hard time with this today. I feel like I've wasted so much time worrying about laundry and dishes and rest. Wake up! Wake up! We only have six summers left! 

We have some major changes coming to our family soon, and I'll be sure to reveal more later, but I want to leave you with this one thought before I'm done. Childhood doesn't have to be magical, but it does have to be meaningful for our children. I think most parents would be surprised to learn what really sticks with their kids as they grow up. Parenting is hard, and the dishes and the laundry have to be done, but remember some day you'll have plenty of time on your hands and way too much quiet.

Childhood is fleeting.....