A Moment in Time

One of my favourite presents from my last birthday, was a photo album from the boys. (Another favourite was a pen, thoughtfully inscribed with One Pink Toothbrush!!) The boys had replicated photos of themselves from when they were little. I love it. Of course I cried. That was probably their goal. I look at the photos of when they were little, and I can hear their sweet cheeky voices and their laughs. The voices are much deeper now, and they are nowhere near little. 

There was something pretty unique about these four energetic boys, each one different in character but as a unit, as a four, they were just something else. I can probably read through old blog posts and be reminded of the crazy energy they had, and the crazy energy we needed to raise them. Me and the husband were younger back then too which helped. But it was oh so fun!

Recently, I have realised that I have needed to grieve the loss of that special time. (Loss is probably the wrong word. I have friends who have lost a child and what I mean is nothing like that awful pain). I have needed to grieve the change from that special time. I don't quite know where it happened either. They were young, a little unit (not unlike the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), then they had sisters added in, then it was Covid and now they're all taller than me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't love the boys more than I love the girls, and I really love the teenagers they have become. (One is no longer even a teen!) But there was just something particular about that time. As a mum, you get caught up in the season you are in. Or you find yourself in overlapping seasons, like when you have a newborn, a toddler and one starting school. Sometimes there isn't much space to acknowledge that a season of parenting has changed. You can feel it happening to you. Maybe you look around and suddenly see a difference. Or perhaps they hand you a photo album of them when they were little... 

Us mums need to take a moment. Reflect on what was, and what is, and what is still to come. It's ok to have preferred certain seasons, or enjoyed certain ages, without rejecting everything that came before or after. It's ok too, to realise that we endured rather than enjoyed, a season or two. Somewhere along the way, they changed, they grew. Perhaps as mums, we did too.

Parenting teenagers is a whole different skill-set to parenting little ones. Less physical energy is needed, although you do need to stay up late for when they actually want to chat. Less direction is given to them, although you do need to give your advice carefully and wisely. Less planning needs to go into their days, although you do need to guide their choices. Less reactions and consequences are needed immedietly, although your patience needs to grow as you wait. Less time is spent closely with them, although the time you get is precious. 

Mine are less of a group of four these days, each the main character in their own stories, although I do love it when they re-assemble. 

I am thankful that God is patient with me, His daughter, with
my own personal growth, as I walk in relationship with Him. There have been seasons where I have walked further than I should, and seasons where I have depended so fully on him. "And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in me, in you, will bring it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus". (Philippians 1v6)