Today I was thinking about whether or not I miss the days when my kids were young, as in, thinking back to around the days when my oldest was 8 and the rest were younger. These days the youngest is 8 and the rest are older. Every day they grow up a little more.
I have regrets about wasted time back then. One of the devices we had was a Kindle. Often times the kids would play with it to take pictures and movies. On more than one occasion, the kids are playing on the floor and in the background is me on my computer. At the time, it just felt like they were doing their thing and I was doing mine. When I see it now, it feels like they captured a moment when I was not paying attention.
I really don’t miss those days too much. It’s not because I didn’t enjoy them. I enjoyed those days as much as I was able, and then some. But along with the joy were also the days that were lonely and hard. But even as I say that, it’s a memory that’s faded.
These days when it comes to my kids, I tend to see the present even with rose-colored glasses. I love my days with them, though it’s mostly the mornings that we’re spending together. At night I try to connect in some way with the older ones, though I admit I feel the sadness of too many nights gone by without going downstairs before going to bed. I feel the tiredness of letting the tiredness win, and joy for how God blesses me anyway.