Lasterday

Whew!  I’m running behind!  I’ve been busy finishing writing my new book and also getting some big projects done for my family.  So, I know it’s late, but this is my New Year’s post.

I’m not much for New Year’s resolutions.  Of course, I have some things I would like to accomplish this year.  I have a list of books to write, and I have the standard ‘get into a good exercise routine’ goal.  I’d also like to revamp my Bible reading and devotional time. 

However, I tend to be a very goal-oriented, stubborn person anyway, so I don’t necessarily need the pressure of a resolution to accomplish my goals.  If anything, I tend to get too focused on the things I need to accomplish.  I can get so caught up in the details that I lose the beauty of the big picture.  I think it’s actually a pretty common problem with moms.  There’s so many expectations put on us by others and ourselves that it’s hard to remember to breathe let alone take a moment to stop and enjoy the view. 

So maybe what I need is an anti-resolution . . .

My 3 year old uses the term ‘lasterday.’  I think it’s a combination of ‘yesterday’ and ‘last night.’  He frequently asks in his cute voice if we did something lasterday.  And I never correct him as to the proper term.  Why?  Because I know that he will eventually realize it on his own, and his lasterdays will forever cease.  And what really bothers me is that I don’t know when the last time is that he will say it.  If I did know, I would try to find a way to record it.  Or maybe I would just hold him and savor the sound of his cute voice telling me about lasterday.

So that got me thinking . . .

If I knew it would be the last time

You asked me to play with you.

I’d stop everything I was doing

And we’d get every toy out and play with it twice.

If I knew it would be the last time

You wanted me to pretend.

I’d crawl after you and the other ‘kitties’

And answer you in meow.

If I knew it would be the last time

You sang the wrong lyrics to a song.

I’d belt out the wrong words with you

And dance you around the room

If I knew it would be the last time

You asked me to read you a story.

I would find the child’s version of ‘War and Peace’

So it would last forever.

If I knew it would be the last time

You wanted me to ‘tuckle’ you in bed.

I’d crawl in beside you, pray away the nightmares, sing lullabies,

And fall asleep with you in my arms

If I knew it would be the last time

You let me kiss and hug you goodbye

I’d making it embarrassingly long

Then watch until you were long out of sight

If I knew it would be the last time

You asked me to kiss your owie.

I’d put extra magic into the kiss

So it would cover all future hurts.

If I knew it would be the last time

You crawled into my bed in the morning.

I would snuggle you close, smell your hair,

And remember my little baby

Time goes so fast.

So many lasts.

And I know not when.

So I’ll savor each time as a last.

I’ll close my eyes, hold you close,

Take a picture in my mind.

Keep that one moment to last forever.

Then I’ll let you go.  Smile through my tears.

And follow you into tomorrow.

I have an impossibly long list of things I should accomplish this year.  But this is my anti-resolution:  I’m going to try to work on the things I really want to remember in twenty years or more.  I’m going to try to live in the moments of my children being young.

 

So, if you come into my house, you may have to excuse the clean laundry pile the size of Mount Everest and the pretend kitties crawling around the furniture.  We’re busy making memories and enjoying whatever lasterdays we have today.