Sometimes when you pick up your child you can feel the map of your own bones beneath your hands, or smell the scent of his skin in the nape of his neck. This is the most extraordinary thing about motherhood – finding a piece of yourself seperate and apart that all the same you could not live without.

-Jodi Picoult

To the Exhausted Mother, 

I want you to do something for me. Stop everything you’re doing, and no matter what room you’re in, I want you to look around.

Don’t just glance. 

Look. Really, deeply, look.

Perhaps, you see messes – your son’s toy truck laying on its side after you nearly tripped and fell over it this morning. Maybe, your daughter’s doll is laying upside down on the couch, while her tea set is scattered all over the living room. The kitchen might be strewn with tupperware and wooden spoons – because of course our kids prefer those over toys. The TV might be rattling out baby voices or upbeat music that you barely hear at this point because you’ve become the master of tuning things out. The blinds are likely dusty, the remotes lost and the couch pillows stained with yesterday’s peanut butter.

Maybe you see yourself. Tired eyes, hair that hasn’t been brushed in a week, skin that might be a little looser than normal and the yoga pants you’re wearing – do you even remember the last time you wore real pants? 

Now, I want you to look again … because … you’ve missed something. 

You’ve missed the most important part.

Know what it is? The gift of time.

“Ha!” you might say. “I so desperately want this stage to be over so I can sleep for more than 2 hours at a time, pee alone, and not have someone climbing all over me.”

And I get it. 

I’ve been there.

But, Momma, here’s the thing about time. Once it is gone, it.is.gone.

There is no do over, no going back, no pressing pause. 

The mess you’re sitting in, the cartoon noises vibrating in your ears, the ache in your foot from stepping on toys and that anxiety pulsing in your veins because you don’t think you’ll ever catch up on sleep, messes, friends, and life – is a moment. 

A moment you will one day so desperately miss.

Everyone tells you that time goes by fast. Everyone tells you to soak in the moments. But you don’t really understand what that means until the moments are gone.

And the saddest part is you have no idea when the moments will go. They will just be here one second and gone the next and it’s one of the most excruciating parts of motherhood.

One day you’ll be right where you are now and you will look around and your entire world will be different. Cell phones will replace baby dolls, coffee will replace the tea sets, sporting equipment will lay on the floor instead of toy trucks and Tik Tok videos will be the new soundtrack of your life. 

The tupperware will be put away and instead you’ll have protein bars, candy wrappers and chips littering your counters. Your calendar will be color coded mapping out your kid’s schedules from sports to clubs to social events. Instead of packing up half your belongings just to head to the grocery store, you’ll be yelling at your child’s back, “Text me when you get there so I know you arrived safely.” 

You see, raising a child is the most unpredictable, chaotic, amusement ride you’ll ever voluntarily get on. You are literally navigating a jungle with no map, no clue where you even are and zero idea what will happen next. It’s just you, your instincts and a hell of a lot of praying to the Universe.

But what is 100% predictable – is that time will pass. The moments will become memories and you will one day wonder, “How did we get here so fast?”

Turns out, “everyone” was right. It really does pass quickly… too quickly.

I know right now, in the midst of the exhaustion, the headache, the worry and the stress – that you think you will never miss these days – but you will.

You may not miss the sleepless nights, but you’ll miss the moments where the world was asleep and it was just you and your baby, their head in the crook of their arm, their sleepy eyes looking right at you and the way their soft breathing made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

You may not miss all the diaper changes, but you’ll miss trying to make them smile and laugh as you avoid being peed on and try to beat your personal time for the world’s fastest diaper change.

You may not miss the food being thrown all over the floor, after every bite, but you’ll miss those first expressions after trying new food for the first time.

You may not miss the messes, the toys everywhere, and the utter destruction, but someday your floors will be clean, decorations pristine and you’ll feel a little lost and for a few moments you’ll wish something was just a little more chaotic.

You may not miss the noise, the shouting, the screaming, the wrestling, and the fighting but someday soon your house will be quiet and the walls will echo with laughter, cries and memories gone by … and you’ll wish you could go back to the past for just a little while.

There are so many joys in watching your child grow, and what a privilege it is for any of us who get to do that. But really the entire journey of motherhood is really about slowly letting go of the most precious thing you will ever have.

There is scientific evidence that when we carry a child their cells become permanently implanted in our bodies and some of our cells become permanently implanted in theirs. When a mom is injured, science has shown that it’s her childrens cells that will first react to the injury and work their hardest to repair the damage and vice versa.

Every time I think of that, I get tears in my eyes. We bring our children into this world, yet they are the ones that often save us … and yet we still must let them go.

The days are long but the years are short, momma. Breathe it in and don’t miss the magic of it all.