There will come a day . . .

 Note: This is a post I wrote several months ago during a moment of reflection, but didn't get around to posting until now.

Motherhood can at times be frustrating. The other day I was sitting on the sofa, after the kids were in bed, in front of the Christmas tree looking at scattered toys, items of clothing and other things that littered the floor, wondering how a room could get so messy when it had been spotless only a few hours earlier. And then a funny thing happened, instead of getting overwhelmed, I started to realize that there will come a day when Sergio and I will have the house to ourselves. Even before then, there will come a day when our kids will be older and more able to pick up after themselves. At first it sounded like something to look forward to and I began to make a mental list:

There will come a day . . .

When little finger prints stop appearing on the walls and windows minutes after I've cleaned them

When I can clean the house in the morning and at night it will still be clean

When my kids will no longer run everywhere they go

When chasing each other around the house has lost its amusement

When Christmas has become a little less magical

When there are no more fights over who gets the green cup

When Clark's eyes no longer disappear into his chubby cheeks with 5 randomly set dimples when he smiles


When escaping and running through the house naked in the middle of a diaper change has lost its excitement (of course that probably won't happen until after he's potty trained . . . )

When candy no longer solves any problem

When toilet paper will stay on the roll instead of unrolling all over the bathroom floor

When my mascara has lost the wonder of the forbidden



When naming Emma's turtle "pickle juice" no longer sets the whole car into a fit of laughing hysterics

When Clark stops throwing things into the toilet

When Sergito stops insisting that he's always right (wait a second . . . that may never change)

When licking the cookie dough bowl is no longer the best part of their day

When Clark can eat oatmeal and Emma can have syrup on her pancakes without getting it in their hair

When my house will no longer be filled with the pitter patter of little feet or the laughter of children

When Emma will wear a pair of pants without having a meltdown



When her favorite color will no longer be pink

When Clark runs normal and not like a little chunky bulldozer that doesn't stop until it topples forward or crashes into something.

When Sergito and Emma no longer climb into Clark's crib every morning to keep him happy

 When there are no more noses to wipe or diapers to change

When Clark will stop calling all action figures Batman, and actually learn the different names

When I won't have to worry about Clark sucking his thumb raw

When they stop running to their bedrooms to get a bedtime song

When Emma no longer dances in the streets

When Clark stops pounding his chest like a gorilla

When wrestling with daddy has ceased to be the ultimate enjoyment

When Clark stops getting excited about sticking half his body into the washing machine to help me get out the laundry

When Sergito will no longer be around to remind me of things (what will I do without him?)

When you have to wait for Halloween to justify costumes

When I can sit in my house and listen to silence . . .

That's when I realized that I am grateful for the messes, for the fingerprints on the walls, for the tantrums, and the fighting, I am grateful for the days when I feel like I'm going to lose my mind, because it means I have the blessing of children, and they joy that they bring. I only hope I can stop often enough to remember that I don't want that day to come, at least not yet. I want to enjoy them, their laughter, their hugs and wet kisses, and the funny way they say things. God has granted me  three beautiful gifts, and I must not be ungrateful for them.