Parenthood Comes in Seasons
Parenthood comes in seasons.
And I’ve learned that you don’t truly appreciate each one until it’s in the rearview mirror. This hit me especially hard after we had our youngest feral one.
When my oldest three were little, people would say, “Enjoy it. You’ll miss them being little. You’ll miss the chaos. You’ll miss them needing you. Enjoy it now.”
And they were right. I believed them—of course I did—but that doesn’t make it easier to actually enjoy the moment when you’re knee-deep in it. Even now, I have to remind myself that someday, I’ll miss this, too.
The running in multiple directions at the same time.
The messy house.
Dishes everywhere.
Kids complaining about what I made for dinner.
The constant: “Can I have a snack?!”
I remind myself to soak it in—even the wild parts. (Though let’s be honest, I will not miss the smell of teenage boys.)
When my wild bunch was younger, I was hanging on by a thread. My husband was working long hours providing for us, and I was doing my best at home. Some days, all I could do was laugh—like when they’d come outside cackling like a pack of wild hyenas, completely naked, or when they’d wrestle and somehow end up in just their underpants.
My husband would ask, “Why do you let them do that?”
What neither of us realized at the time was: I was surviving. And honestly? I loved their creativity—even in the chaos.
Looking back, those moments make me laugh. I’m grateful I let them be wild.
Now, we’re in the teen and pre-teen years. The sass is unmatched. The attitudes? Disrespectful. The smell? Nearly unbearable. And the worries? Oh, they’re real—friends, the internet, and every worldly thing that threatens to undo what we’ve worked so hard to teach them.
Still, I whisper to myself: Enjoy it. You won’t regret it.
Because I know one day I’ll blink, and they’ll be graduating… getting married… starting their own little feral families. And I’ll get to enjoy those seasons, too.
So if you’re in the thick of it—hanging on by a thread—know you’re not alone. Every season of parenthood brings its laughs and its tears. Let’s do our best to embrace them all.
My husband would ask, “Why do you let them do that?”
What neither of us realized at the time was: I was surviving. And honestly? I loved their creativity—even in the chaos.
Looking back, those moments make me laugh. I’m grateful I let them be wild.
Now, we’re in the teen and pre-teen years. The sass is unmatched. The attitudes? Disrespectful. The smell? Nearly unbearable. And the worries? Oh, they’re real—friends, the internet, and every worldly thing that threatens to undo what we’ve worked so hard to teach them.
Still, I whisper to myself: Enjoy it. You won’t regret it.
Because I know one day I’ll blink, and they’ll be graduating… getting married… starting their own little feral families. And I’ll get to enjoy those seasons, too.
So if you’re in the thick of it—hanging on by a thread—know you’re not alone. Every season of parenthood brings its laughs and its tears. Let’s do our best to embrace them all.
