Standing in the kitchen at work, a coworker and I had a brief conversation about lack of sleep and exhaustion. When commenting that Acorn continues to wake up at least 4 times a night most nights, I said, "It's okay, I try to remind myself that this will end. She will not be 15 and still waking up 4 times a night, so I can push through it now." I walked back into my office with my lunch and it hit me right in the chest; this will end. I'd said it and thought it several times. It was meant to calm me and keep me going, but now it just hurt. This will end. There will be a time when she doesn't wake up at night wanting my touch to calm her, when I don't get to have 4 extra times of getting to hold her to my skin, when we don't have the moonlight and sounds of sleeping dogs and dad to sing their lullaby for only the two of us to hear. Not only that, but all of this will end. There will be a day when she doesn't wake up giggling, when she doesn't reach out to touch my face and grab my hair while I try to wrestle her into clothes that don't match, when she doesn't scream for joy over the radio and swing her hat around to happily entertaining herself on the way to daycare. There will come a day when I no longer get splashed by bath water, or listen to dad reading bedtime stories at 7pm, or spend over an hour maneuvering bedtime while dishes pile up and to-do lists get longer.
So I will do my very best to trade 'just pushing through' for fully being in the moment, because I will miss these moments. This does not mean that I will fully enjoy every single minute, or joyfully jump out of bed when all I want to do is hit snooze for the rest of the day. In fact, I am annoyed by people giving the motherhood advice, "Enjoy every minute!" because that is just not reality or human. But I will be in every moment instead of waiting for it to pass. I will do my best to find the joy in difficult times, to find the laughter in my exhaustion, and to fill each moment with raw, unyielding love.