I had these pictures done of the girls to signify how important our recent trip to Port Aransas really was for my little family. During the trip, I was overtly enjoying time with my family and relaxing on the beach, but on the inside I was struggling with one of the hardest decisions I have had to make in a long time. For the past 7 years I have been both a mom and a professional and have loved every minute of both. I had a long commute each and every day but was okay with this because I knew what I was doing was having an impact and changing the future of so many. I loved the people I worked with, I loved the people I met, and I loved my independent life. But, I guess there comes a time in everyone's life when they have to look in the mirror and analyze themselves. I think for moms this is more than just "Am I meeting my goals?" "Am I happy with myself?" As moms, we tend to take the backseat and focus on the needs of our family first and worry about ourselves next. For me, I was trying to do and be all things to all people and while I think I have done a pretty good job, I knew I could not keep it up. My little ones were growing up before my very eyes and even though I couldn't make it stop, I could control how much I was involved.
So during one of our trips to the beach, I took a walk by myself and prayed for guidance and you know what, God provided me with the guidance I needed. As we were walking, a frantic woman came up and asked if we had seen a little boy with a yellow swim suit and a boogie board? "No, why?" She had turned her head for a brief moment and he was gone....in front of us the ocean, behind us hoards of people and this little boy was gone.....in an instant. It hit me like a ton of bricks, I looked over at my sweet Baby Ava and there she was running into the ocean all by herself without a care in the world and little Alex was crawling right behind her doing all she could to try to keep up and God said, "Ashley before you know it they will be grown and you will miss it if you keep up this pace."
I made the decision then and there to slow down and stop trying to be all for everyone and concentrate on being all for a select few. The few that make me who I am today and who I will be forever and ever. I look forward to what is in store for the future and will always have fond memories of my life as a small town girl from Spearman, TX that made it in the big city. It is a life that I have loved but it is my past and I can't wait for the future........btw, the little boy was found.
Quick letter I read on yahoo the other day....that really touched home with me and reinforced I made the right decision.
Dear Me 20 Years From Now,
I wonder if you've become one of those women who briefly lingers around, a safe distance behind, young moms carting their babies and toddlers through the grocery store with that far-off look in your eyes. If you gently smile at the mom when she looks up and catches your glance, obviously frazzled by how challenging taking 2 kids grocery shopping is, as if to tell her it's going to be okay. If you look at her and miss that time, want so badly to trade 5 minutes of the independence you have now that your kids are much older so that you can rest a toddler's head on your shoulder, or buckle a baby in their car seat, mindful not to pinch any belly chub in the harness.
I have a feeling that you might be, and there are some things I want you to know, some things I'm willing you to remember.
I want you to remember that they were the hardest thing you'd ever done. They challenged you, and they kept you up at night. They pushed your buttons, and they were never, ever quiet... unless they were in trouble. I want you to remember that you loved them the hardest you've ever loved anything, from day one, and every day after that.
I want you to know that you were completely overwhelmed nearly all the time. The thought of taking them anywhere by yourself made you want to hide in bed all day. You were overwhelmed by the responsibility. You had NO clue what you were doing. You were overwhelmed by how much they trusted you and how much they needed you. You were overwhelmed by how much you needed and loved them.
I want you to remember how it felt to lay side by side next to your 4-year-old before she drifted off to sleep. How you talked face to face, nose to nose, about her day. How you told her you were excited to see how much she would grow by the morning, and how in the morning you'd lay in bed next to her and stretch her arms and legs out, exclaiming, "LOOK HOW MUCH YOU GREW LAST NIGHT!" How that put the biggest smile on her face.
I want you to remember what it felt like to hold your 12-month-old on your lap, wrapping your arms around her and laying them on her bulging tummy. How the back of her head and the handful of baby curls at the nape of her neck felt and smelled when you rested your head atop hers.
I want you to know that you were acutely aware of how fast they were growing. Even though many days would pass in the blink of an eye, there would always be a moment when your world would snap to a halt, and you would look at them while they were doing something mundane and normal, and you would be painfully conscious that they were no longer the size they were last week, and that they would never be the size they are at that moment again.
I want you to know that you went to bed every night with one simple wish for the next day. To just do better.
Even though you were tired and challenged, exasperated and overwhelmed, you knew then that you would miss these days... most of them, at least. It was a truth that was hard to live with, and most of the time you ignored it because there was nothing you could do about the passing of time. If you spent your days mourning the ones that had gone by, you'd miss out on the days you were living in.
You knew you were on a light rail, moving at speeds you couldn't comprehend. You had no control over the ride that brought you to where you are today, but believe me when I say you searched so very hard to find the emergency brake.
Please know, please remember that you tried to savor that time. Be at peace, knowing you spent late afternoons curled up with them on the couch, that sometimes you just sat and watched them move and run, that occasionally you took inventory of all the things they'd learned in the last week, and that you appreciated your time with them the best you knew how. Know that despite your very best efforts, there was no way to freeze time.
I promise you, you tried.
Love,
you
