Too many years ago

“I’m all done!”

It came from inside one of the bathroom stalls…. a sweet, tiny, sing-song voice that made my uterus hurt just to hear it.

It wasn’t one of mine.  We’re many many years removed from requiring any bathroom help.  But as I stood there, taking my time as the warm water washed the soap off my hands, I couldn’t help but smile.  The mom of the owner of the little voice was momentarily distracted with a sibling, so after a beat the voice rang out again, this time with a little more urgency.

“I’m all dooo-ne!”

For a minute, I just hung there, suspended somewhere between my nostalgia and the truth.  Hadn’t my kids just been that tiny?  The truth is, at 21, nearly 18, 14, and 10, my kids are far beyond any descriptions of tiny.  A full half of them are no longer technically kids at all.  Two are taller than me, one’s on his way, and my “baby” just turned double-digits 4 months ago.

It’s perhaps one of the biggest parenting cliches.  “It goes so fast.  Enjoy every minute!”

Except, it’s true.  It’s really really true.  And the nostalgia that hit me in the bathroom, the unlikeliest of places, nearly took my breath away.  It really does go that fast.  

And it’s so dang filled with beauty.  And pain.  And memories of times that you sometimes wish you could freeze, and sometimes wish you could skip over.  Parenting is like life, but…. condensed.  Until the good times and beautiful times and times that bring you to your knees come rushing back to your consciousness one day in the bathroom of your daughter’s theater.

It goes so fast. 

And don’t get me wrong.  Having older kids is its own kind of wonderful.  There are a host of new things to look forward to,  and exciting things to enjoy to be sure.  But my kids…. my sweet, funny, intelligent, fierce kids just don’t need me in the same way that they used to.  And that’s really its own kind of bittersweet mourning.

So today I’m thinking of that mom.  The mom of the sweet little bathroom singer who needed help wiping.  Are you stressed?  Had you been running around crazy all morning worrying about lack of sleep and diaper bags and sippy cups and getting everyone into their car seats? Mom to mom, I get it.  I do.  It’s tiring!  Some days, it’s downright, to your very bones, exhausting.

And my humble advice, summed up to the very best of my ability:  Soak in those good days, breathe on the shitty ones, and know – really truly, deeply know – that it really does go by in the blink of an eye.