I’ll be honest. Most days I’m just trudging through this life as a mother. I’m on autopilot; serving meals, packing backpacks, wiping noses, waiting for naptimes, lifting tired bodies in and out of beds, counting the hours until I have to wake and do it all again.
I’m not as present with my children as I want to be. I can’t always feign interest in my younger son’s cars and trucks, or my older son’s rants about Minecraft. I spend way too much time on my phone when I really should be soaking in their (mostly) sweet, precious selves.
I am well aware how fleeting these years are. My older son is eight and when I look at his long legs and his toothless smile, I want to cry. I remember so vividly when he was as small and round-faced as my 2-year-old is. At the end of our long days together, I sometimes ask myself: Where have all the years gone?
But as much as I want to be as present as possible, I know that motherhood is a balancing act. Sometimes I just need to decompress on the couch with my phone, connecting to other adults. Sometimes I seriously need to get the dishes into the dishwasher, and can’t focus on the precise way my toddler is sliding his garbage truck across the kitchen floor.
Happy to have this piece over at The Huffington Post. Click here to read the full article.