Engaging Each Day with Action Words

Time. — Choosing All the Times.

on October 11, 2013

It is about time.

As I sit here and listen to the clock on the wall, tick, tick, tick… I am reminded that timing is everything.

Being a Tired Working Momma is about time. And the fact that there is just never enough of it.

Everywhere I go, I hear Mommas talking about the fact that they just need more time. If there were more hours in the day, minutes in the year, things would be better. Easier.

So, as Tired Working Mommas, we make choices.

And in time, our choices begin to define us.

We know we need to exercise. So we choose to set the alarm clock for 4:45 a.m. instead of getting the 7 or 8 hours of sleep that we need to function like a normal person. Then we wonder why we are so tired all of the time.

We know we need to eat healthy. But sometimes we choose to skip breakfast or don’t make time to make lunch as we rush everyone out the door to be on time.

We know we need to meet deadlines and get our work accomplished on time. So we choose to ignore the invitation and don’t find time for a cup of coffee with a friend or colleague.

Sometimes there is even so much work to do that we struggle to leave work when we leave work and so we use our time to sit on the couch to do a little more work after the kiddo’s bedtime.

It is about time. It is about choices.

And it may be time for us to make some changes.

There comes a moment in time where we have to start to believe that this is the right time.

We have to trust that this time in our lives is truly fleeting.

We don’t have time.

There will never be enough time, but there will never be another time like this.

And it is time for us to be ok with this. To make peace with this.

To trust that this is a great time.

This time of raising our kiddos is full of so many first times and last times.

Too many to count.

I realized this morning that I may have experienced one of those last times last night.

There is no better bedtime staller than my Y. However, her little brother, X, may be giving her a run for the money. His bedtime routine now consists of about 7 cannonballs, or as he says, ‘candyballs!’ as he jumps onto his bed and bounces around, while I gasp and wince as he almost hits his head 5 of those 7 times. Then there are the required 6 songs with the last one being sung two times in a row. Then there is time for a hug. A hug and a kiss. And then just a kiss. He still kisses those cold spots on the backs of my arms before we launch into a silly speech with all of the final goodnights before it is time to go to sleep:

“Good night. Sweet dreams. I love you. I love you more.” Times a million.

Sometimes this takes forever. And I can feel myself start to think of other things that I need to do after I tuck him in. I still have to tuck Y in. And that can take just as much time. I still want to go downstairs and finish that piece of writing. I still need to look at the lunch menus…ok, let’s be honest here, Felix makes the lunches, so I’ll let him do that. But I do still need to clean up the dishes or put the living room back together so I feel better about my house when I get up in the morning.  I still need to pick out my clothes or look at my calendar and decide what meeting I need to prepare for.

Often times my mind starts to spin like this during the time I am supposed to be ending my day with my amazing X. Sometimes I have to fight to stay in the moment.

So, this time, just as I was this close to being out of his bedroom door for the last time last night, X sat up and looked at me.

“I have one more question.” I know that I sighed. I know that I did. I hate to admit it now, but I know that I did that.

“Do you think it would be weird if you were to rock me in that chair tonight? Do you have time to do that just one time tonight?”


The rocking chair. The rocking chair that I spent so many nights, so much time, rocking both of my babies to sleep, still sits in his room. I can’t remember the last time I even sat in it. It has been forever since I held one of my children in it. We joke about how long their legs are now and about how there was a time that they used to fit in my arms.

I stopped. I wanted time to stop for just a little bit.

And in that moment, I realized how fast this all goes. This time that flies in our face and races past us.

And when I think that they are stalling or wasting my time, because as a Tired Working Momma I have so much work to do. I am so wrong. Even though my time at work focused on teaching 80 people about community building in the classroom, this…this…without a doubt is actually the most important thing that I will do all day long.

So, I cleared off the 17 superheroes that did battle in this chair earlier in the day, and I sat down and held out my arms. He grinned from ear to ear and threw back the superhero covers and jumped out of bed. He awkwardly climbed up into my lap, giggling the whole time. And I tried to make him smaller. I tried to squish up his legs and remember the time that he used to fit here. All of him. Here in my arms.

And we discovered that he still fit. We snuggled up and I rocked him and he giggled. Maybe one part embarrassed, one part in celebration that he was indeed victorious and out of bed again. But I also think there was one part of him that remembered the times that we both sat like this. For hours. Together. Just us and the ticking clock on the wall.

Nowhere else to be. Nothing else to do.

It is these times. Times like this.

That makes it all worthwhile.

Because it is only a matter of time that he literally won’t fit in my lap any more.

And maybe that was even the last time he will ask to be rocked by me in that rocking chair.

Only time will tell.

And I know that tomorrow I will be rushed again to go out the door and do my time at work.

But I will choose. I will choose to try and fail and try, time and time again.

And I will let my choices define me. As a Tired Working Momma.

A Tired Working Momma who will choose to make the time, find the time, take the time to spend more time like this.


12 responses to “Time. — Choosing All the Times.

  1. Jan Francis says:

    Oh I loved this. I remember when my son was around 11 and he asked me to read him “Mexicali Soup” one more time. I was so thrilled and I think he was too. The most important thing we do in our lives is raising our children. 🙂 BTW “Mexicali Soup” is going for $75 on Amazon and that is used!

  2. Melissa says:


  3. Melissa says:

    This commenting thing isn’t going well…..Both comments were supposed to have “sniff” in there (because, yes, Gravel teared up a bit too).

  4. OMG I still have our old glider and ottoman downstairs, moved it out of the nursery years ago but could not bear to part with the reminder of long nights. Sometimes they still ask to be rocked in it. sigh…thank you for the reminder!

  5. Janice Heck says:

    Very touching. Thanks for sharing.

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