Tonight we found ourselves in the rare situation where we were all home before 7 pm on a Friday night.
This hasn’t happened since August.
Normally I’d take this opportunity to catch up on a few things.
But earlier today I came across this post I shared on Facebook two years ago:
And then you know what I came across?
This poem by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton. You’ve probably heard it:
Cleaning and scrubbing can wait ’til tomorrow
For babies grow up we’ve learned to our sorrow,
So quiet down cobwebs and dust go to sleep
I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.
And that poem reminded me of a very old post I wrote. I had to find it. Because I remember including that poem in the post.
I wrote it in January 2013. Almost seven years ago.
The second half of the post went like this:
Yesterday when I got home from dropping Number 3 off at school, I saw this in the window:
I had to take a picture.
And another one.
Because they were so happy to see me.
Actually, not just happy.
I’ll go as far to say totally psyched.
They couldn’t wait to see me.
So excited that they were pressed up against the glass.
And I had only been gone for 15 minutes.
So I wanted to document it.
Because that stupid poem keeps going through my head.
And I know it’s only a matter of time…
Until those two are running away from the door when I get home, instead of running toward it.
So I’m going to try to appreciate those moments a little bit more.
And, when the day comes that there aren’t any more faces in the window…
At least I’ll still have the pictures 🙂
The Faces In The Window.
They aren’t there anymore.
The kids are still happy to see me when I get home.
But they aren’t waiting in the window anymore.
The days of reading Pinkalicious are behind us.
As is that little Pinkalicious doll Number 5 used to love so much.
The pace at which life is moving really hit me this morning.
And again tonight.
In two years my three youngest kids will be in middle school.
So I didn’t do any of the stuff that did not get finished today.
Instead, I put my pajamas on, and I made some popcorn.
The iPads and devices were put away.
And we sat on the couch and watched Little House On The Prairie together.
Because just like those days of the kids waiting anxiously for me to get home, I know these nights together on the couch are fleeting, too.
And I really miss those little faces in the window.