It was a recent Sunday morning. My husband Daniel was at synagogue, saying his morning prayers, while I was at home with all three kids: my daughters, ages 5 and 3, and my son, who is four months old. My son was crying for another bottle, and my girls were fighting over the crayons once again. “Mommy!” they screamed, as my son’s cries got louder. I could feel my body temperature rising as my anxiety shot up to a 10.
After giving my son his bottle and solving the crayon battle, I sat and tried to calm down. While taking some deep breaths, I experienced a moment of clarity. I thought, “It’s so difficult now, but it’s not going to last forever. Cherish it.”
When my kids are around, I’m taking care of them, and when they’re at school or with a babysitter, I’m thinking about them constantly. Along with my husband, they are the biggest blessings. Becoming a mother was the single greatest feeling I have ever experienced.
When I’m with my kids, they just seem so big. They take up so much space in my home, in my brain, in my life, that they come off as huge. And yet, they’re so little.
If I see them with another adult, or they simply walk a few feet in front of me, or I find one of their selfies on my phone, I think, “Wow, they are so small.” And that keeps everything in perspective.
They say that when you’re parenting young children, the days are long, but the years are short. This resonates so much. Whenever I look back at photos of my girls when they were younger, I barely recall the anxious days and the sleepless nights. All I see is joy. All I remember is love.
In moments of high anxiety – say, when it’s a long car ride or a late night and my kids are hungry, tired or a combination of both – I feel my feelings in the moment. But I also think, “When I’m 80 years old, I would give anything to be with my children on their very worst day again. I don’t care. I want to go back.”
I also zoom out in my head and look at the situation from a bird’s eye view. I may see a mother who is struggling to juggle everything, but I also see one who is incredibly happy and fulfilled, who loves her children and values the time she has with them.
People always say to me, “Awww, I remember when my kids were that young. I miss those days! Cherish it while you can.”
“I’m doing my best,” I tell them, knowing just how right they are.
The other day, I was being a bit curt with my daughters, and my oldest asked me, “Mommy, why did you have children if we just stress you out?”
When I heard this, I thought the same thing I think 10,000 times a day: “Oh no, am I messing up as a parent?” And then I gave her the answer that is both honest and true: “Honey,” I said, bending down to look her in the eyes, “everything good in life is also stressful sometimes. Having kids can be stressful. Being married can be stressful. Doing what you love for a job can be stressful. But having kids is the most wonderful thing in the world. I love you and your sister and brother so much.”
My precocious daughter then said, “OK!” and cheerfully scooted away to play with her Magna-Tiles.
My kids seem so big right now, but they aren’t. I need to always treasure my time with them while they’re still little, before the years catch up with us.
Kylie Ora Lobell is an award-winning writer and Community Editor of the Jewish Journal. You can find Kylie on X @KylieOraLobell or Instagram @KylieOraWriter.
