January 8, 2010

the following things are hard:

- holding L and not being able to tell her how much I adore her.  I want her to know forever how much beauty and goodness she brings to me as a 20 month old.  When she is a teenager I want her to know how deep and wide and unconditional my love is for her.  I want her to know how proud I am of her, how helpful she truly is, and how she delights me every day.

- knowing that my little man is growing up.  Will he be embarrassed of his silly mother?  Will I be able to connect with him and raise him to be a man's man while I am such a girly woman, baking sweets and dancing in the dining room?

- being friends, or even aquantences, with people who have more money than me.  It's hard not to be jealous of and bitter towards someone who isn't going on vacation this year because they bought a boat, or they talk about bargain shopping for outfits that cost $75.  I suppose this is why it's not polite to talk about money in public.  (not that I'm guilty of that.)

- knowing that I will be baking a chocolate cake today and later serving it to my family in honor of my mom's birthday, but I cannot eat it!

- balancing between the thought that my house is never clean and that I just need to shut up because my house looks fine.

- knowing that all the adorable smiles and laughs Ben gives me, and all the adorable things L says and does every day cannot be held onto or remembered forever.  It breaks my heart to know that in 20 years I will not remember the cough-like sound of Ben's laugh at 4 months, or the melt-your-heart way that L reads The Hungry Caterpillar with me.


  1. You're making me cry, Bonnie! :-) The first comment and the last one both got to me. Soak up your little ones. Sometimes I think if I can just get close enough, maybe I can breathe them in and they'll stay with me for ever.

  2. That makes me cry. It's even worse being a working mom. I miss everything that Landon and Aubrey do between 7:30 in the morning and 4:45 in the evening. And, then she's in bed around 7 and him at 8. It does make those hours that I am with them that much more special...when I'm not trying to do dishes, cook, do laundry, etc...