The Measure of a Moment

I became a mom at the ripe old age of twenty-one. I knew I was a young mother, but I didn't know how much I didn't know. I became a mom the second and third times in my mid-thirties. Yes, became a mom. Thirteen years between babies is a lot of time to learn some lessons about motherhood. And by the way, hindsight really is 20/20.

Juggling a child, college and a career was daunting, so I postponed the latter. It wasn't a gut -wrenching decision. By twenty-three I'd earned an Interior Design degree and landed a job in a prestigious showroom, but I didn't have the intestinal fortitude to confront my boss about stealing my clients. Besides, I secretly loved the idea of staying home with my daughter. I say secretly because there was opposition to this "outdated" concept, even in my Christian circle.

Three glorious years raced by while I earned my teaching degree, then we celebrated a mother-daughter first day of school- hers in Kindergarten and mine as a teacher down the hall at small Christian school. I was living my working mother dream: riding to and from school with her and sharing everything in between together, while doing what I considered full-time ministry. How many women ever have that kind of opportunity? Looking back I see that I was part of a small blessed minority, but I didn't really appreciate it.

I thought I understood how precious that time was, but now that it's over, I realize every moment was immensely valuable. Childhood is a time to give them roots and wings. The roots keep them tethered to your heart after they've flown away.

In eighth grade my daughter rode the bus for the first time because I was home with her newborn sister. Surprise! Nineteen months later their brother was born. Double Surprise!

The plan was that I'd stay home until the youngest started school and then resume teaching. My 'wasband' changed the plan by filing for divorce and custody when my son was eleven months. Triple Surprise!

After my whirlwind return to the workforce, I won custody and worked my way up into my dream job as a childcare center administrator. The blessing? For the last two years my kids and I have gotten to share every day together.

But this precious time is drawing to a close. As a new school year approaches, my heart aches because that first surprise baby is starting kindergarten.

I write this on a Friday when I'm usually at work. I requested extended parenting time for ten consecutive days without the children having visitation with their father so that I can be at home with them. Like I'd always planned to be. Next week is the last that my babies will be in my center with me, with each other. But I'm not complaining. I cheated the divorce. It didn't completely rob us. We had two years together and we've got ten more days.

I must confess, becoming a wise mom has taught me to appreciate and treasure the fleeting measure of every moment.

~Truly, Tammi