Oh mama...

This morning, I was in the boys' bedroom as Big Kid was picking out his clothes for school. He chose his alligator shirt, the one that his nana brought back for him from her vacation to Florida. It is black and white, and the colors appear in the sun. He excitedly told me, "My classroom is really bright! I wonder if it will light up at school!" It was one of those moments that I wanted to pause. Bottle up. Remember forever.

I've been a mom for six years. I've got four kids. I like to think that I've learned a lot, but I know I have a long way to go. Some days, I wish I could go back in time and tell myself to slow down. Relax. That no matter how hard things were, how sweet they were, how exhausted I was, that this crazy train through motherhood was just getting started, and I needed to savor it.

Oh, mama. You are 39 weeks (8days7hours32minutesbutwhoscounting) pregnant. Your body aches. Your feet are swollen. You don't see how you can possibly grow any bigger. Oh, mama. You are just getting started. Some day, very soon, your little one will be born. But those aches won't go away. Your body will ache and cramp and groan as it tries to return to its original size. Your feet will swell from pacing the floors with a crying newborn. You arms will hurt so bad that you will be convinced that they will fall off because your sweet 32lb two year old insisted on being carried through the grocery store. But some day, very soon, you will miss being pregnant. You will miss the bumps and the kicks and the "Did my water break? No, that was just pee," moments of pregnancy.

Oh, mama. You are sitting on the couch holding that sweet eight day old baby. The newborn clothes are still too big on him. You adjust your shirt, prepared to nurse him for the 67th time that day. This is hard. Your body is tired. Your nipples are sore and cracked, and you aren't sure that your boobs can grow any bigger. They hurt so bad that a breath of wind could bring on the tears. Oh, mama. You are just getting started. Some day, that baby will be five months old. He will smile up at you as he drinks his milk, and you will realize that nursing got easier. It is the easiest and sweetest and most precious thing you have done. You have grown this baby from a microscopic egg to an 18lb giggling boy! And one day, you will sit down in that spot on your couch, cuddling that baby, and you will unclip that tattered nursing bra, and you will nurse him again. And that will be the last time that you ever nurse your baby. Maybe the tears will come because you realize that this phase of your life is over. Maybe you won't realize it is the last time and those tears will come later, as you look back and remember the days of nursing your newborn. You won't remember that you curled your toes and held your breath as he latched on. Instead, you will remember feeling the milk flow and the sweet weight of the baby in your arms, and you will realize, "I was just getting started."

Oh, mama. I see you. You are up for the third time with your eight month old. You are wondering if you will ever sleep again. Should you let him cry it out? Should you rock him back to sleep? What do the books say? What do the moms on Facebook say? What have you done wrong? Nothing, mama. You've done nothing wrong. You are tired, mama, but you are just getting started. You may get your baby to sleep now, but it won't be the last night that he wakes you up. He will get teeth. He will be sick. He will simply need a hug. One day, he will be three years old and he will get out of bed 47 times between 7:30 pm and 8:17 pm, simply to ask for water, request you to wipe his butt, or discuss spiritual questions of the universe that you have no answer to. It's tiring. The mamas of the universe are with you when you pour yourself a giant cup of coffee the next morning.

Oh, mama. You are wrestling with your 18 month old. All you want to do is put pants on him, but he won't comply. He has other ideas. Instead of putting on those pants so that you can run to the grocery store for more diapers, he's on the ground, kicking and screaming. The phrase "Terrible Twos" come to mind. Oh, mama. I'm sorry to say it, but you are just getting started. They don't call them the F*cking Fours for nothing, mama. Pick your battles, and stay strong. It's hard to discipline and train and teach all day and night, but it's worth it. You will recognize the fruits of your labors soon enough. So when you can't take any more, put them to bed. Get yourself some chocolate. Cry in the corner. It will all be alright. Remember that you are doing a great job.

Oh, mama. Sending your baby off to school for the first time. It's scary. Who will make sure that he gets to his classroom safely? Does that bus have car seats? What if he walks around all day with jelly on his cheeks after eating lunch in the cafeteria? What if he gets lost on his way to the cafeteria? Oh, mama. You are just getting started. You've gotten through the baby days and the toddler years, but your worries have changed.Now it's bullies and food allergies and "will he make friends?" It will be okay, mama. He will learn and grow in ways that you never imagined. But you may have to reconsider the way you spell things to your husband when you don't want your kids to catch on. Now, he will know what you are saying.

Oh, mama. Standing in a messy boys' bedroom, surrounded by superheroes and blankets and dinosaur teeth. You wonder if it will ever be clean. You wonder if they will ever find that missing library book. And you overhear an excited giggle, "I wonder if this shirt will light up at school!" One day, it won't be "cool" to wear a color change shirt to school. One day, it will be name brands and fashion and "What will my friends think?" Oh, mama. It's just getting started. Remember these innocent moments. The last six years have flown by, and before you know it, another six will be gone, too. Savor it.