When you first have children they talk about the challenges of parenting, the struggles of a baby waking in the night, the toddler who won’t stay in bed, the cost of childcare and injuries from sports…

Having to take off work to pick them up from school when they don’t feel well, helping them with homework, a messy house, the never ending laundry, the cost to buy school clothes, packing their lunches…

You watch their eyes light up on Christmas morning and try to soak in the magic of those moments.

You coach them in sports, rushing to practices and ballgames and tote them all over the country to let them play the game they love, no matter how exhausting or expensive it becomes.

Life is just so busy that you rarely even stop to think what the end of those days look like.

In fact, it’s not really even something you can wrap your mind around.

You go into it thinking that 18-20 years sounds like a long time. 

Then suddenly hours turn into days, days into months and months into years.

That little person that used to crawl up next to you in bed and cuddle up to watch cartoons suddenly becomes this young adult who hugs you in the hallway as they come and go.

And the chaos and laughter that used to echo throughout your home gets filled with silence and solitude.

You’ve learned how to parent a child who needs you to care for and protect them but have no clue how the whole “letting go” thing is supposed to work.

So you hold on as tight as you can, wondering how time passed so quickly, feeling guilty that you missed something. 

Because even though you had 20 years it just somehow doesn’t seem like it was enough.

You ask yourself so many questions. 

Did you teach them the right lessons? 
Did you read them enough books as a child? 
Spend enough time playing with them? 
How many school parties did you have to miss? 
Do they really know how much you love them? 
What could I have done better as a parent?

When it’s time for them to go, it all hits you like a ton of bricks.

And all you can do is pray, hope and trust that God will protect them as they start to make their way into the world alone.

Parenting is by far the most amazing experience of your life that at times leaves you exhilarated while others leave you heartbroken.

But one thing is certain, it’s never enough time.

So for all the parents with young children, whose days are spent trying to figure out how to make it through the madness…

Exhausted day in and day out…

Soak. It. All. In.

Because one day all of those crazy days full of cartoons, snuggles, sleepovers, Christmas morning magic, ballgames, practices and late night dinners…

All come to an end.

And you’re left hoping that you did enough right, so that when they spread their wings….

They’ll fly…?

Originally published on Facebook, Misty Brewer Lee

So God Made a Mother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A MOTHER available now!

Order Now

Check out our new Keepsake Companion Journal that pairs with our So God Made a Mother book!

Order Now
So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Misty Brewer Lee

Misty is a social media marketer/entrepreneur, a wife, and the mother of two amazing young adult children. As a writer she feels her purpose is to empower women to chase their dreams, embrace their journey, and create a life that incorporates their passions and their calling. She believes that by sharing how she’s overcome her own insecurities, personal struggles and shortcomings in parenthood and marriage, that it will encourage other women to let go of the idea of perfection . . . and instead help them develop the mindset they need to leap over life’s obstacles and take hold of happiness and fulfillment.

Mom’s Special Recipe Means More This Year

In: Grown Children, Living
Bowl full of breadcrumbs and celery, color photo

Three weeks before Easter, my family and I stood in the hallway talking to a team of doctors whom we had flagged down. We were anxiously inquiring about my mom, who was in the ICU on life support. We hadn’t been able to connect with the doctors for over 48 hours, so it was important for us to check in and see what was going on. The head doctor began discussing everything they had observed in the scans and what it meant for my mom’s quality of life. Every word made our hearts break. The doctor continued to talk about...

Keep Reading

When Your Son Grows Up, You Will Remember This

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Mother and son posing in older portrait, color photo

When your son turns 50, you will remember how, when he was a baby, he would kick the arm of the rocking chair just when you thought he was finally asleep and wake himself up for another 15 minutes of grinning and rocking. And you will smile at the memory. When your son turns 50, you will remember the endless walks through the neighborhood you took with him rain or shine because your husband had the only car for the family at work. You always visited the little wooden bridge that ran across a tiny stream, and he would jump...

Keep Reading

I’m So Lucky to Have Parents Like Mine

In: Grown Children, Living, Motherhood
Husband and wife, smiling, color photo

I was reminded recently that not everyone has parents like mine. I’ve always known it in theory, but seeing it around me is different. Getting to know and love people from different kinds of homes is eye-opening, and it made me realize something . . . I’m so lucky to have parents like mine. So, here’s to the parents who show up. The ones who work full time but still manage to make it to seemingly all your school functions, church outings, and sporting events. Here’s to the parents who took the time to sit down to dinner with you...

Keep Reading

In These Teen Years, I Wonder If I’m Doing Enough

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Boy walking in the ocean surf

It’s a strange feeling to look back at all the years as a parent and wonder if I am doing enough. My boys are teens. One of them has just a few baby steps left until he heads into life after living under our roof. He is fiercely independent. One of those kids who I have for my whole life mistaken for being years older than he actually is. The kind of kid who can hold a conversation that reminds you of when you are out with your friends enjoying a bottle of wine at a restaurant made for middle-aged...

Keep Reading

18 Years Went by In a Flash

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen
Girl walking into college dorm

If I close my eyes, I can conjure the feather-light weight of my newborn daughter. At under five pounds, my tiny bundle of love looked up at me with eyes so big and bright I swore they could discern my soul. No one warned me then of the chaotic parenthood journey ahead. So many firsts and lasts would pepper our paths. Her first word, steps, and school day flew by amongst a whirlwind of activities designed to keep us both occupied—park play dates, music classes, and mom and baby yoga occupied much of our early days. I recorded everything in...

Keep Reading

The Sandwich Generation Needs Support Too

In: Grown Children, Living, Motherhood
Grandma and grandpa with baby, color photo

Caregiver. Nurse. Custodian. Mother. Parent. Daughter. Son. Rinse, lather, repeat. If you had told me 10 years ago (heck, even 6 years ago) that I would quit working, care for my babies, and provide care for my parents on a daily basis, I would have laughed you out of the room. I remember how hard it was to go back to work after I had my son, commuting 45 minutes each way. I remember calling home during lunch (my husband was able to stay home after my maternity leave had ended) and yearning to see my baby boy. My new...

Keep Reading

Moms Know the Small Things Matter

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Mother playing blocks with young girl

I have always given credit to my dad for letting me find my path in life, for making me independent, fearless, confident, and everything I am today. It was he who taught me to drive a car even when my mom thought I was too young. He let me be reckless till I figured out exactly what I was doing. He even taught me to fix a puncture so I always get where I ought to. Wasn’t Dad the one who encouraged me to choose the university of my choice and find an apartment far away from home? He wanted...

Keep Reading

The Lucky Ones Know the Love of a Grandma

In: Grief, Grown Children, Loss
Wedding photo of woman with her grandma, color photo

Not so many years ago, my grandma passed away. She was my last grandparent, and when she died, it hit me like a ton of bricks. She was a force: a strong, independent, opinionated bundle of life—all wrapped up into a tiny frame of skin and bones. She rocked a solid Bob Dylan haircut, loved classical music, opera, and theater, and knew how to hold her own with my sisters and me and a bottle of good red wine on Thanksgiving. My grandma had frail, bony hands that had touched the earth of every continent short of Antarctica. She had...

Keep Reading

I Couldn’t Do Motherhood without My Mom

In: Grown Children, Motherhood
Mother and grown daughter, color photo

I have vivid memories of mornings as a child. I would wake up and go downstairs into the living room just to hear my mom say good morning in the happiest voice. I looked forward to that sing-song good morning from my mom each and every morning, without fail. When I was five years old, she went with me to the pumpkin patch on a class field trip. I  remember riding on the hay ride and looking at her and smiling, just so happy that she was there. When I was 10, she took me to the mall to get...

Keep Reading

I Am Her Mother and Her Friend

In: Grown Children, Motherhood, Teen, Tween
Mother and grown daughter at restaurant, color photo

The moment I realized my daughter was my friend was her first college drop-off. Her tears displayed her love and gratitude to both me and my husband while her honesty and openness revealed a true strength of our friendship. I left her peering out her open dorm door, knowing the bond of mother and daughter was strong but so was that of friend. In the early years of motherhood, I knew about that fine line between mother and friend. But I found the concept even more present with my daughter. She was the last of three and the only girl....

Keep Reading