A Mother’s Day poem and prayer, for mothers of children under 5

These Are the Days

They tell me these are the days

I will miss when you are a teenager, a young adult, a grown woman perhaps with a family of your own.

These days that blur mindlessly, sometimes too heartlessly, into one long Groundhog’s Day

Waking, shepherding, feeding, cleaning, driving, fussing, feeding, hugging, cleaning, feeding, shepherding again

Negotiating all the same arguments, navigating all the same demands, cleaning all the same messes.

Have we grown at all since yesterday? Last month? Last year?

I don’t see it until I look up from the drudges and see you. When did the baby

Face, voice, squishy cuddles, innocence

Disappear into yesterday’s hazy memory?

…..

These are the days

I still light up your eyes so effortlessly.

These are the days

I can still fix most of your problems with a long hug, a kiss, a Hello Kitty band-aid,

And reassurance that Mommy is here.

These are the days

You still want to tell me everything you do, and love, and discover and want.

These are the days

We are still so simple in who we are to each other, you and I.

…..

These are the days.

Don’t let me wish them by too soon.

 

“So teach us to number our days,

That we may get a heart of wisdom.”

Psalm 90:12

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