Parenting
The Longest Short Days by Jenna Price
June 13, 2016
I dash out of the office, knowing that being the last one out of the parking lot will cost me valuable minutes. The fifteen-minute drive to daycare is a race against time, and I mentally check off my list: 5-year-old’s tee ball uniform? Check. Diaper bag for the baby? Check. Snacks for everyone? Check. Coffee for me? Check. Alright, we’re ready to roll.
As I rush into the daycare, I juggle the little cleats that are both snug and a challenge to put on. A flurry of tugging and stretching later, we’re both a bit sweaty and wild-eyed. Let’s be honest—ever since I became a mom to these two boys, “sweaty and wild-eyed” has become my new normal.
We scoop up the baby, who is fixated on sticking his fingers in my mouth and repeating “mout.” With snacks and a sippy cup distributed, I hit the gas pedal and off we go. Our conversation hops from gym class to the topic of boogers. I’m only half-listening, my mind drifting to the comfort of my couch and the shows waiting for me on my DVR. It’s already been a long day.
Suddenly, two ambulances scream past us, lights flashing and sirens blaring. A wave of fear washes over me, but then I hear my sweet boy say, “Mom, let’s pray for whoever is hurt.”
Time seems to slow as we pray for the injured, and with a quick, “Oh yeah, please look after my little brother,” our sacred moment fades into a discussion about some schoolyard tale.
As we pull into the baseball complex, gravel crunches beneath the tires. The baby is planted in the stroller, while I haul the bat bag, diaper bag, and water. My little athlete bounces ahead, tossing his water bottle into the air, where it catches the sunlight like a prism. A rainbow of light dances on his face, and for just a moment, his beauty takes my breath away.
But in an instant, he’s off, sprinting towards his friends—growing up before my very eyes.
Like a pack mule, I make my way to the stands, setting up to watch the spectacle that is tee ball. Though it’s only 5:45 p.m., it feels like I’ve conquered a mountain to get to this field, five miles from home. I can’t help but think longingly of my cozy couch and sleep.
I sneak a piece of candy from my purse while the baby tracks his brother, babbling away. The players wrestle and frolic as coaches and parents shout last-minute instructions. The whole scene is like a movie. There’s injury (a ball to the face) and heartbreak (striking out). For an hour, these tiny warriors fight and strive, emerging either victorious or defeated on their own patch of grass. That red dirt is sacred ground to them.
But transitions come swiftly, and once the game ends, the kids race around like hyper bumblebees, while the adults try to guide them to their cars.
Time to head home.
Next comes the chaos of dinner, baths, (attempted) homework, and finally, bedtime. The baby drifts off on my lap, his chest rising and falling. Wet hair clings to my big boy’s forehead as he snuggles up next to us in his pajamas while I read a bedtime story. The child who looked so grown up and heroic on the field now seems small and sweet.
He falls asleep before I can finish reading. I gaze at their peaceful faces, and my heart swells with love. The stress and fatigue melt away as I hold their tiny hands. They are growing up right before me, limbs stretching and faces changing. Tears fill my eyes as I realize how quickly time is passing.
When my husband comes home after a long day, he sees my teary face and raises an eyebrow. “Hey, honey. Are you OK? Did something happen?”
All I can muster is, “I’m fine. I just can’t believe today is already over.”
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In summary, Jenna Price captures the whirlwind of a day in the life of a busy mom with two young boys. From the frantic rush to daycare to the heartfelt moments of prayer and the chaos of tee ball, every experience is filled with love, laughter, and a hint of bittersweet reflection on how quickly the days pass.