This morning, I read a heartfelt post on A Day in Motherhood. As I was reading, I realized...I was doing the exact same thing, without even noticing it.
After I initially heard about the tragedy in Newtown, I had to remove myself from it. I shut off the news, changed channels when it was mentioned, and avoided scrolling through my Facebook feed because the faces of those innocent babies were everywhere. I understand why the world is talking about it - it's a senseless tragedy that every parent can relate to, because we are able to put ourselves in the shoes of those mothers and fathers that are forced to bury their child far too early. It breaks our hearts and we cry along with them, feeling the pain as though it were our own.
But what I cannot understand, is the repetition. Yes, the story is major news and everyone deserves to treat it the way they see fit. But as a mother of a sweet little boy, I just cannot stomach the constant exposure to such painful news. Being ignorant of the reality is not what I want, but I just can't bring myself to continue to play the scenarios and feel the agony those parents must feel, over and over.
Instead, just as Lori posted, I find myself cherishing every moment of my days with Micah, because I don't want to take anything for granted. I had photos professionally taken of Micah by a friend of mine named Minie, mostly for Christmas cards (that I slacked off on and never got printed - oops). But after the 14th, I found they started migrating to my desk at work by the dozen, and I find myself staring at them off and on all day. I listen to video clips I have of him on my phone just to hear him talk and laugh. Who cares if last week I wished he could just STOP and relax for a moment without talking, because he was exhausting me?
We got him a trampoline that was supposed to be for Christmas, but we broke it out early and he plays in it every day before bedtime. He likes to lay down in it, so we fill it with blankets and pillows and cover the top so it's like a tent. Who cares if it makes a mess I have to fix after he goes to sleep?
Yesterday, a coworker of my mom's sent a bottle of bubble bath and some candy canes to Micah for Christmas. Without even letting him ask, I opened one of the candy canes. When he found out what the bubble bath was for, he wanted to go home and take a bath. So we went home and I ran the space heater in the tiny bathroom, and filled up the tub more than I normally would have, with a an excessive amount of bubbles,and he played in it for an hour while I took pictures of his bubble beards and sweated in the heat. Who cares if the candy canes made him sticky and hyper, and who cares if his little toes and fingers were pruned from being in the water so long?
He stays up a little later, he has more milk and more cartoons, I give him more hugs and kisses and take more pictures. I spend more time remembering the little things and enjoying his constant jabber about volcanos and bowling, he gets a little chocolate and maybe a cookie for breakfast. I tickle him more and tell him I love him a thousand times a day. I worry less about his clothes getting dirty and his socks being clean.
Nowadays, it's all about the memories and the journey, and less about the sweating the little stuff. Nowadays, it's about cherishing the time you have. Even if it comes along with dirt and less sleep.