Enjoy ’em Before They’re Gone

I am a closet worrier. I try to keep my worries hidden, to act nonchalant, but in truth, I worry about everything. I come from a don’t-run-with-scissors and motorcycles-will-kill-you-early kind of home; it’s genetically ingrained in me. So worrying became Worrying when I had children.

 My WorryList starts with the basics: Are they eating enough? Too much? Sleeping well? Eating fresh foods? Getting their DHA? Omega-3s? Do their shoes still fit? Is their hair brushed? Teeth flossed? When did they last bathe? Will we ever be a diaper-free home? Is their homework done? Will they get to bed on time? Up on time? Will they be safe on the playground? Will they break a leg jumping off that? What if they trip? What if they get lost?

 The List covers heavier topics too: Are they being good friends to the children at school? To each other? How do we minimize the arguing? Do they make good choices? Are we teaching them the values and principles we need to? Is our home happy? Are we having enough fun? Am I too firm? Too flexible? Do we have meaningful family traditions? Do they understand the value of money? Are they learning anything? Do they behave when I’m not around? Do they mind their manners? Is their schoolwork too hard? Too easy? Are we preparing them for real life? Are they self-starters? Global citizens? Volunteers?

 This list never ends.

 For me, motherhood is like travel. I love to travel, but it’s hard to enjoy if I think about the plane ride getting there. Is this thing safe? Does the pilot know what he/she is doing? We’re over water for how long? Does the plane have enough fuel? Did everyone do his or her safety checks? And ultimately – Will I live through this flight to see my loved ones again? I must stop myself from worrying too much about these questions or else I would never go anywhere!  In motherhood, it’s even easier to potentially miss out on the fun of the journey because of excessive worrying.  

 My real Worry, the Worry to trump all Worries, the Worry that keeps me awake at night and recurs in the morning: am I fully savoring my children?

 Did I play with them enough today? Did I really listen? Did I stop to give thanks for them? Did I tell them I love them – again and again? Did I hold them close a little longer? Did I capture the moment? Did I smile? Like Maya Angelou asks – Did my eyes light up when they walked in the room? When I look back, will I know I did all I could to just enjoy them? Did I pause, cherish, savor, remember, love?

 Every time I think about time passing, I ache a bit inside. When I hear the well meaning “enjoy them while they’re small because tomorrow they’ll be gone” speech, I cringe. Not because I don’t believe it, or because I hope that day will come sooner, but because the Worry surfaces again: am I enjoying them enough?

 The classic quote that evokes these emotions in me is a well-known one from Anna Quindlen. She says, “The biggest mistake I made [as a parent] is the one that most of us make. … 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 [my three children] sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages six, four, and one. 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.”

 I, like most mothers, try to treasure the doing a little more.

 I take photographs, often many throughout the day, trying to get their expressions on film. The firsts. The lasts. The smiles. The tears. The walk to school. The playground. I even take breakfast shots – the messy-hair, crumpled-face, tattered-pajama look. I let them take photos, too. Thanks to their creative spirits, I have photos of various dishes, hair bows, silly faces, teddy bears, and trinkets of all shapes and sizes.

 I read once from Jodi Picoult “a photo says, you were happy, and I wanted to catch that. A photo says, you were so important to me that I put down everything else to come watch.” With each photo, will they know I cared?

 I take movie clips too, trying to capture the sounds of their voices, their movements. I film them singing, playing, and once in a while even sleeping. I love the little snippets and hope that one day they will watch them and remember what it was like to be little.

 I also write. I try to remember what they say, and if I’m really together, I write it down. I update the blog occasionally, send out family emails periodically, and write in our journals when I can. I make a lot of mental notes for a future date.

 I pick random moments to pause, to be still, and to just look around. Where are they standing? What are they saying? Did I catch that glimmer of hope in their eye? Did I smile back at their inside joke? What make-believe games are they playing today? I look at how her hair wisps around her face. Listen to them giggle to pieces as Dad tickles them. I laugh with them, feel their weight against me in a quick embrace, or a bedtime snuggle. Breathe in freshly bathed skin, their little fingers interlocking mine.

 Those are the moments when my heart is full, that I wish I could literally pause time. Nobody move, breathe, or grow one more inch. Just stop. Pause. But don’t delete.

 I don’t claim to have it all figured out. What I do know is that I’m trying. Someday, when they’re grown and gone and we have a whole new set of problems and struggles and I long for the days when they were little, I will be at peace. 

 I tried to enjoy you. I tried to make it last. I tried. 

 QUESTION:  How do you “treasure the doing a little more”?

 CHALLENGE:  Try a little harder today to worry less and enjoy more!

About Gretel Patch

Gretel Backman Patch currently resides in Falls Church, Virginia. She has lived in Djibouti (East Africa), Sydney, Australia, and next summer will move to Kathmandu, Nepal. She has four children, each with unique abilities and talents. Her third child was adopted from Ethiopia, and he has greatly enriched their family. She graduated from Brigham Young University in communications and enjoys using technology to capture and preserve family memories. She likes to travel, snorkel, read, bushwalk, and spend time with friends and family. She treasures the quirky daily adventures that come with raising a family overseas.