Dear friends who often say, “The days are long, but the years are short”:
I appreciate your kind intentions. But today, I have something to share with you.
You seem to have forgotten just how long these days can be. You’ve overlooked what it’s like to be jolted awake by a toddler, wailing for pancakes and cartoons at 5:03 a.m. You stumble out of bed to whip up the pancakes, only to get caught up in a 12-minute negotiation over toppings. You jump through all the hoops, adding syrup and fruit, serving it all on a colorful plate—only to hear, “Mom, can I have toast instead?”
You’ve forgotten.
You’ve forgotten the feeling of finally stepping into the bathroom at 4 p.m. and realizing it’s the first time you’ve glanced in a mirror all day. The breakfast remnants are still smeared on your sweatpants, and your hair hasn’t seen shampoo since Tuesday because the baby’s been teething and your partner’s been working late. There hasn’t been a moment to care for yourself.
You’ve forgotten.
You’ve forgotten what it’s like to struggle to finish a sentence or even a thought. Life becomes a series of fragmented exchanges, where you try to connect with other adults but can’t quite convey any meaningful message.
You’ve forgotten.
Now that I’ve expressed my thoughts, it’s your turn. And I can already anticipate your response. Because it’s the truth. I know—I’m forgetting too.
I’m forgetting that one day, I’ll long for these little ones who get muddy in the backyard at the most inconvenient times. Yet today, those muddy footprints feel like just another chore to tackle before dinner—a dinner I’ll spend forever preparing that no one will touch.
You’re right. I have forgotten.
I’ve forgotten that soon, this clingy baby, who only wants me to hold him, will grow into a boy who might shy away from hugs in public. I’ve forgotten that, eventually, I’ll enjoy dinners out with my spouse every night if I choose, but I’ll find myself missing the delightful chaos of a child’s silly stories interrupting our meal.
I’ve forgotten that one day, I’ll witness my children grow up, chase their dreams, and maybe even get married. I’ll be filled with pride, but deep down, I’ll feel a twinge of sadness as they step into their own lives—no longer needing me as they once did.
Someday, no one will ask me for pancakes or that silly red plate. But today is not that day. Today was long, exhausting, and full of demands. The kids were restless, misbehaved, and far from perfect. And that’s perfectly fine. That’s the reality of motherhood right now.
Even in your dream job, long days are still permissible.
“The days are long, but the years are short.” I promise, there will be plenty of opportunities when I’ll want to discuss how quickly time flies. But today isn’t one of those moments. You’ve overlooked just how long these days can truly be.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a crying baby to strap to my back while I resolve a toddler squabble over a favorite cup, tackle a mountain of laundry, and prepare a “gourmet” dinner. Spoiler alert: It’ll likely end with me microwaving hot dogs at 8:47 p.m.
For more insights on this journey, you might find useful information in our other blog post here. Also, check out this resource for excellent information on pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re looking for authoritative supplies, consider this baby maker kit.
In summary, while the days of parenting can feel interminable, the years indeed slip away faster than we realize. It’s essential to cherish the chaos, even when it’s overwhelming.