Believe me when I say, it’s really the little things.

When I’m old and gray, it’s not the type of car I drove, or the size of my house. Sure a luxury car is a bonus and a big house for my excessive entertaining would be amazing, who wouldn’t want that?!

But believe me when I say, it’s really the little things.

When I’m old and gray, it’s not the quiet and peaceful moments I’m going to long for; it’s the laughs and giggles; the screams and the fights.

When I’m old and gray it’s not the clean and tidy house I’m going to miss; it’s the catastrophic play room, toys scattered as far as the eye can see, marker scribbled on the walls; signs of innocent life present; signs of happiness.

When I’m old and gray, it’s not the folded laundry I’ll remember. Sure an empty hamper these days is like a dream come true, but have you ever folded tiny socks and paused to think about those small feet you admire oh so much?

When I’m old and gray, it’s not the lavish family vacation that will define the life I had, again that would be another bonus, but a trip to the park with my kids covered in dirt, jumping in muddy puddles like peppa pig, smiles bigger than my heart can bear.

That’s what I will long for.

Don’t get me wrong, thinking of muddy puddles right now can almost put me in cardiac arrest, but believe me when I say, it’s really the little things.

It’s an impromptu drive late at night to go get ice cream.
It’s a day of movie binging, huddled all together under a big blanket.
It’s making a fort with all the pillows and cushions.
It’s covering the sidewalk with chalk.
It’s the bubble baths and the bedtime stories.

Just like the changing seasons, motherhood too has its seasons, enjoy the sunshine before the long days pass, and all you can do is yearn.

suka -@dinnerandadiary