Four Girls Later

Hi friends! I haven’t written in a while, and I’ll share more on that later. However, I wanted to get some feelings down while I’m sitting in my car with a sleeping toddler!

I knew pretty early on that I wanted a big family. Being a mom is my very favorite thing, and raising my girls is the greatest privilege of my life. If you hang around me long enough, I’m sure you’ve heard me say the greatest gift I’ve ever given my children, is their siblings. I have a lot of reasons for feeling this way, but probably a very large reason is my relationship with my own sibling. She and I have just about nothing in common and we’ve often said to each other, “If we weren’t sisters, we probably wouldn’t be friends.”. That’s not really honest though. Our sibling relationship is such a great example of choosing people anyway. Sometimes you don’t have the same friend group, choose them anyway. Sometimes your hobbies are vastly different, your appearances differ, you don’t like their parenting style, or life takes you on different paths, choose people anyway. In this lifetime, and for the rest, I would always choose her as mine. There is no one I’d rather walk-through literally the entirety of my life with. So even if that’s not what you desire, you can see where this desire for a large family comes from, right? 

If I’m honest, there are times that I want to grow that big family even more. However, anyone with 3+ children can attest this leaves you open for pretty much everyone’s opinion. Y’all, if I could count the amount of times someone said, “you know how this happens right?”. That one kills me… I’m not sure exactly what it’s implying, whether one is not biologically the parent, or a consenting participant, or that you’re just plain idiotic… it really is easier to say nothing. 

Aside from the opinions of others, the only thing that is keeping me from having one more child is the feeling of resources. It’s not pregnancy, postpartum life, or sleepless nights. It isn’t the prolonged stage of dependent youngsters or the fear of the teenage years. Not even the compounding cost of higher education. It’s that I can’t seem to conjure any more time in a day. No matter how much I schedule, calendar, or incorporate rest… the reality is I am a finite being with limitations.

I heard a sweet mom friend today say that she feels like she’s often rushing time. Being a military spouse, so many times you find yourself wishing something would quickly pass. Specifically in regards to your family being together home safely. I think the irony for me is that I sometimes find myself wishing for time to pass while simultaneously holding the baby stage so closely to my chest. I have often been unable to look ahead and even think what life might be like. When my oldest daughter went to kindergarten, I had one in preschool and a brand new baby. A few beautiful short years later, three became four. I think what that mom didn’t realize in the throes of everyone needing to be held, was that it wouldn’t always feel like that. 

Those long days when you’re completely touched out and would rather just sit in silence to regroup, that doesn’t last forever. There would actually be a time that a running hug after you’ve made eye contact from across the cafeteria would literally ignite your soul. After school snuggles on the couch would be such a welcome gift. I never could have seen that as one sibling gets older and navigates extremely challenging peer relationships, she would find confidence, rest, and solace, in being the big sister at home. I couldn’t have foreseen being their safe space even when you aren’t together. Y’all. It’s a gift. All of it. Even the really hard stuff. 

Today I got to go to their school and have Thanksgiving Lunch.  As I looked across the table at four incredible women, I couldn’t believe the goodness all over my life. Someone so flawed. Someone that has made so many mistakes. Someone that is still making mistakes. Yet here I was, looking into the four most beautiful souls and thanking God that they are mine. 

Shine your light.

Xoxo, 

Sara