I Want to Remember the Little Things…

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From the moment I saw you,
I started to pray.
Big prayers and small ones
I have sent God’s way.

I prayed you felt safe,
full of joy and content.
When I whispered “I love you,”
you knew what I meant.

Y’all. This book nearly tore my mama heart apart. It’s called When I Pray for You by Matthew Paul Turner. I saw it on Amazon and thought it looked so sweet, so when it came I opened it to read the first few pages, and by the end of the second page I was in tears. By the last page, I was a complete mess standing in my kitchen with mascara running down my face. That night, I let my husband read it to our daughter before bedtime. He too had big tears rolling down his face by the end.

There are days that I feel like I’m just going through the motions of being a mama.

There are days when I’m so overwhelmed and tired of the little things, but forget to stop and remember that those little things are what I want to remember the most. I want to remember when my sweet girl runs around the kitchen with a wooden spoon and her cup, and happily plays while the million toys she has lay scattered in the living room. I want to remember the mornings where she’s in our room helping me get ready and tries to put on my shoes. I want to remember how she laughs when I brush my teeth with my toothbrush. How she pretends to put on her “makeup” with one of my old makeup brushes. I want to remember all the kisses and BIG hugs she gives.

And even though I get tired of hearing it

I want to remember how her face lights up when she hears the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show come on the TV just for her. I want to remember how she pats her little legs and calls the dog to come to her. The squeals of delight she lets loose as she swings and I jump around and scare her. I want to remember all the words she says, and all the people she waves to and the big grin she gives us when we read books to her. The way she clasps her little hands together because she wants you to say the blessing with her before she eats, or say her prayers with her at bedtime. The sheer joy and excitement on her face when she sees her daddy and how she says “mama.”

I want to remember the little things
Photo credit: Kiersten Russo of MileStone Photography, Richmond, VA

 

We prayed so hard for her.

We prayed for God to bless us with her, and now that he has, I don’t ever want to forget how blessed I am to be a mama…her mama. If I could bottle up my love for her, I’d run out of bottles, because it is infinite. I pray every day that I don’t let the mundane things get to me. That I remember the little things and remember the gift I’ve been given. To not be overwhelmed and not to feel sorry for myself or wish she were older so things might be easier. I don’t want her to grow up. I want her to be little forever. The first year went by so fast, and I know that they will go even faster as time goes on. I’ve always heard people say, “babies don’t keep and time is a thief”—it is so true. As mamas, I think sometimes we get too wrapped up in all of the things that are so overwhelming that we need to stop and remember the little things. One day, when our babies are all grown up they will ask us about these little things…and I for one want to be able to tell our daughter all about them. 

So, sweet baby girl, I pray you will always know how incredibly loved you are, and the prayers I pray for you will never, ever cease. I love you more than tongue can tell.

 

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leahr
Leah is a small town girl from rural west Alabama. Married to a college football coach, she has lived in Alabama, Chattanooga, TN and now Richmond. After working several years with college students/student-athletes, she now mostly stays home with their one year old daughter, Emma. Somehow she still manages to devote a few hours a week to working with student-athletes at a local university, sings with the praise and worship group at church, and also teaches spin classes. When she's not busy cheering at football games, working, or folding the seemingly never ending pile of laundry, Leah enjoys date nights with her husband, Moscow mules, being in the kitchen, reading, and listening to true crime podcasts.