Hurry up and wait.
As I write this, I am sitting in the car waiting for Macie while she is at her horseback riding lesson. Earlier today I waited on Madison to get in and out of the tub and for McKenzie while she decided which things in the stack under her desk were “keep” and which were “dump.”
I spend a lot of my time waiting.
I have for almost 16 years.
I waited (anxiously) for Madison to be born.
I did the same for her sisters.
I waited for them to settle down in the evening so I could sleep for a bit.
I waited in the waiting room, waiting on any bit of good news while Madison was sick.
And then I waited while they nursed and then got back out of bed to take them and tuck them back in their pretty white crib.
I waited while they tried to lean how to go potty.
I waited while they tried to write their name for the first time.
And I waited to not give any clues (“what goes after the ‘c’?”) when they almost had it figured out.
I waited while they sorted out walking into school by themselves for the first time.
I waited in the car when they did not need me to talk them up to the school anymore.
And I waited and watched to see if they needed me when they walked in by themselves, and I waited on a turn and wave ‘good bye’ while the door closed shut behind them.
I waited on them brushing their hair one more time before their first middle school dance.
I waited outside the school for them to come giggling out with a gaggle of friends.
The hours I have spent waiting are countless.
And even now, even so, I am glad to wait.
Because I know that one day will come, far too soon I fear, when they will not need me to wait for them anymore.
And believe you me, I am very happy to wait a long time for that day to come.