Epiphany

It's funny how you can hear something a thousand times, thing you understand, and realize that you really don't understand until you really do understand. Yeah, okay, that sounded a little confusing.

You hear from everyone to enjoy your kids when they're young because they grow up too quickly. A mom of one of the kids on Taylor's soccer team told me, "Yeah, my house is a mess. I've decided that there will always be laundry and dishes to do, but my kids won't always be here forever." I can guarantee you that my house is not all that clean. There are always dirty dishes in the sink, clothes on the floor, laundry to be done, floors to be swept, etc. And I've always thought that I understand the whole idea that they won't be here forever. Until the other day. The boys were asleep and Kent was working overnight at the hospital. It had been a long day, and the part of the day that I did spend at home was spent cleaning and getting frustrated with Taylor. So I was cleaning up in the kitchen and went to put something away in my pantry and saw this:

My initial reaction was to grab them and toss them in the toy basket. I get miffed when Taylor goes into my pantry and plays with my cans that I just organized according to content (yes, yes, I'm sometimes highly anal). He also brings his cars and toys in, and sometimes I step on them (it's a wonder I haven't broken anything yet). So I was about to put them in their appropriate place when I had an epiphany; holy cow, sometimes I'm way too anal. I'm a control-freak. Everything has a place and I like organization. That's not to say my house reflects that philosophy. But I do get frustrated and stressed when my house is messy...

And I finally realized that no, my boys won't be here forever. They're going to get older. I'll get to the point where there are school assignments scattered everywhere instead of cars, and then college applications instead of school assignments. They'll get to the point where they won't think I'm the coolest person in the world- in fact, I'm certain they'll eventually be embarrassed by me. They just simply won't need me in the ways they do now.

So there the cars sit; still on a shelf in my pantry. Taylor hasn't played with them in a few days and has probably forgotten that they're there. But they remind me to not be so anal and to enjoy my boys while I have 'em.

On a brighter note, for those of you that are married, does this look familiar?

That's right: it starts early.