Cherish the Crayon

A few weeks ago, Amy at Permission to Peruse had a wonderful post directed toward the mammas of little ones.

It was beautiful.  It took me back to where I was and how I never though I would leave that place and how I thought I would be cleaning crayon and poop off the wall for the rest of my life.

My comment to those reading was this:

As a mother of a 15, 13, 10 and 7 year old, I understand all too well. And I tell all the moms of little ones to cherish these years. CHERISH them.

My daughter is 13 and I would give ANYTHING to have my biggest worry be how to get that crayon off the wall again…

To which Amy replied:

YES. I am dreading the teen years. But hard is hard. Cleaning crayon when you’re physically exhausted still leads you to a heap of tears. I mean, if I’m choosing, I choose the crayon as my nemesis. Both ages I think have their rewards that make it all worth it though, yes?

I never responded.  That night there was a big blow up.  The next morning there was something — I’m sure it was some kind of drama. I kept looking for the rewards that make it all worth it.

Suddenly, I realized I needed someone to write a post about the teenage years telling me that it was going to be okay.

Where is that post?

I need to read it now.

Heh.

But yes, there are rewards.

I’m even able to witness a few here and there amidst the chaos that is our life.  There are always a few glimmers of hope, just like there were when they were little — in between temper tantrums.

The look on their face when they proudly proclaim the A on their project.  The same project you hounded them on, over and over again until they finally got it done.

The excitement of one getting his learner’s permit and the great responsibility shown when learning to drive.

The sometimes “thank yous” when you spend three hours trying to get a mystery stain out of a practice cheer uniform.

When they show off the bag you stayed up until midnight the night before making because they HAD to have it to go to the beach the following day.

Watching them love on other babies in the nursery when forced to work the nursery at church, not because they have to, but because they want to.

The hug when you need it, even though they have no clue that you did.

Yes.

I can see some of the rewards.

But I’d still like to read that post.

But you know the feeling you got after a rough day, a day that you never though would end and you FINALLY got your two year old to sleep… and then you would go back in there and check on him/her before you went to bed and when you saw him/her sleeping your heart would melt and your whole body would smile?

That doesn’t go away.  Even now, when I check on the 15 year old… or the 13 year old… even after a big blow up.

The teen years are just as hard as the toddler years.

Just a different hard.

But it all defines who we are, who they are, and it’s just part of life.  Realizing that there are others that have gone before you (and have survived) help!

So I’m asking… what’s the best advice you have to those mamas coming up behind you?

Until next time…