This in an article I found in Newsweek that is especially true of my life now. Kids are all grown and out of the house and I have lots of time to reflect. Young mothers should pay special attention to enjoying their children NOW because too soon they are grown and gone.

All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow, but in
>disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three
>almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people
>who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of
>disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell
>vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor
>blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed
>more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their
>jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the
>trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its
>center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except
>through the unreliable haze of the past.
>
>Everything in all the books I once pored o ver is finished for me now.
>Penelope Leach, T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling
>rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education,
>all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild
>Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that
>if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those
>books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught
>me, and the well-meaning relations — what they taught me, was that
>they couldn't really teach me very much at all.
>
>Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then
>becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it
>is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to
>positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice
>and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.
>
>When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on
>his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time
>my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of
>research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this
>ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually
>you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow.
>I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful
>books on child development, in which he describes three different
>sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a
>sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there
>something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong
>with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically
>challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China . Next year he
>goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
>
>Every part of raising chi ldren is humbling. Believe me, mistakes were
>made. They have all been enshrined in the 'Remember-When-Mom-Did' Hall
>of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language –mine,
>not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived
>late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible
>summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the
>classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, 'What did
>you get wrong?' (She insisted I include that here.) The time I ordered
>food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away
>without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include
>that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two
>seasons. What was I thinking?
>
>But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while
>doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly
>clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There
>is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt
>in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I
>wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how
>they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night.
>
>I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing:
>dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little
>more and the getting it done a little less.
>
>Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and
>what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought
>someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now
>I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they
>demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books
>said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was
>sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up
>with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more
>than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books
>never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts.
>It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.
>
>--
>Andrea Vitale, D.P.T.

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Thank You for this essay. It was beautiful and so right.
Judy

That made me teary!! I think that is what I am finding out with my little baby boy. Being older, I guess, has opened my eyes so much more. I do alot more of just sitting and watching him, playing in the yard with him, just enjoying him. The weekends do not find me looking for a babysitter so I can go out. So many people say "Oh , let me keep him while you go to the store" and I'm like, oh that's okay, we have a good time! I know how fast this time will fly by, and I am savoring it!! Happy Mothers Day!!!!

What a sweet story. I love the way the author captured the very essence of being a mother, and also being human.


Happy Mother's Day to everyone.

Thanks for sharing the story with us. The research points really hit home, such as position of baby when they sleep. I wish we had more time, for sure.

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We're off to never never land

So poignant. Thank you for sharing.

So true. I think most of us moms can certainly relate to that. It's hard to live in the moment until the moment is gone and we know we can't get it back.
Happy Mother's Day to a wonderful group of moms here at MC! I love the advice, stories, truthfulness about mistakes, accomplishments and everything we share here.