August Ann Inspired

A dear friend said to me once, that I must always have a song running through my head. She was right. Depending on the circumstance, my mood, my brain pulls a song out of the vault and runs it on replay until it no longer fits. Yesterday, today, “Lord, I Hope This Day is Good“, has been on a continuous loop.

I have been with our three kids, since May 25th, almost non-stop. Our summer has been packed with baseball games, volleyball camp, tennis camps, piano lessons, violin lessons, BUT, we also have had plenty of time for swimming, going to the lake, traveling to the farm to spend time with my grandparent’s.

We spend countless nights around a fire and the kids spend long hot days in the rocking chairs on our front porch. I LOVE our summers. I don’t love the running so much, but I love that we can sleep in and stay up late. I don’t have to pack lunches and we don’t worry about getting homework done every evening. And, it is the one time of the year that I am not in constant worry for our Abby Lew, who has a Urea Cycle Disorder, being exposed to every germ under the sun at school.

I am so incredibly grateful that I get to be with them through it all. Even when they drive me crazy with their arguing. Their constant need for a snack. Continuous messes around the house. The hours I get to spend with them in the summer are priceless and treasured. But, I get zero ME time. Our house is in a constant state of motion with the kids home. It is loud.  It is busy. It is running in and out the door. I love it, but it exhausts me.

So every year, the first day of school is bittersweet. I get MY time back. Grocery shopping is simpler without three kids throwing stuff in the cart. The house stays tidier. WRITING is much, much easier. I get a second to catch my breath. To clear my head.

But, this first day of school, EVERY SINGLE YEAR, gets me. It is an abrupt halt. A hard stop. It is QUIET. And every year, I am at a loss, just for that first day, of what in the hell to do with myself. The three humans that have consumed my every minute these past couple months, are gone.

We did the first day of school photos this morning and my heart just aches seeing how big they are getting. And then I think, I don’t remember any first day of school photos of myself. Was that not a thing back then? Or was it just not something my mom did?

And then, I wish I could ask her, that question and so many others.

Like…did she watch me sleep the night before and struggle, JUST STRUGGLE, with me growing up. Did she look at me, the way I look at Gracie, and think MY GOD, you are not my little girl anymore, who is this young woman staring back at me?

Did she worry when I was in third grade, at how hard that might be for me, the way that my heart is worrying for my Abby. Did she worry about friends, bullies, if I ate enough for breakfast to get me to lunch.

Did she cry, when it was my last first day of elementary school, the way I have for Brady? Did she watch as I walked in to school and whisper “I love you”, to me and then count the minutes until she saw me again to hear all about my day.

Did she PRAY. Did she pray MIGHTILY for me, the way I have been praying for my kids as they start this new school year. That they will be safe. That they will be strong. That they will be kind. That they will have thick skin and open hearts.

I am praying. For my kids. For your kids. For our teachers. Our principals. I am praying for all of you kindergarten mamas. Senior year mamas. All the years in between mamas. All the mamas that should have had a baby going to school today, but now only imagine what that day might have looked like.

Change is hard. Transitions are tough. By tomorrow I will be ready to conquer the world with all the time I have. But for now, I’m just gonna keep singing…

Lord, I hope this day is good.

P.S. If you wanna watch the late, great Don Williams perform that song, click here!

As always, thanks for reading!

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2 Replies to “{Lord, I Hope This Day is Good}”

  1. Not exactly the sentiment you so eloquently presented but over the years I’ve tealized how desperately kids want to get older and how much their parents want them to stay young.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. It REALLY is such a dichotomy. Something we never understand until we are parents ourselves and experience firsthand the struggle our own parents must have gone through, raising us. Not easy on a mama or daddy’s heart, that’s for sure. Thank you for the compliment & the comment, btw:)

      Like

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