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Those minutes matter. Whether it’s 5 or 15, every single second of them counts.
Unless you’ve been there, it’s impossible to explain. I’m not sure there are any words that could really create the right picture. But believe me when I say those minutes count.

I’m talking about those final minutes leading up to that door opening and some form of relief being on the other side. Those minutes you never thought would come. Those minutes mean you made it through another day, and there is (possibly) some relief in sight.

This is a new experience I wasn’t quite ready for when I left the corporate world to stay home full-time with my daughter. I don’t regret it. Not one single bit. But man, was I in for a surprise.

RELATED: I’ve Been a Working Mom and a Stay-At-Home Mom, and They’re Both Really Hard

I didn’t realize just how much those final minutes of the day would count. How closely I would watch the clock. How insanely (and possibly, irrationally) frustrated I would get when I would get the inevitable “I’m going to be late” text.

I am fully aware of and equally grateful for how hard my husband works. I really am. But it doesn’t make those last minutes go by any faster. It doesn’t lessen the load. I’ve tried so hard not to play the “you don’t get it” song on repeat, but some days, it is virtually impossible.

Impossible to explain how hard it can be to make it through those endless hours every day. How, after a while, it all starts to blur together, regardless of what you’ve done or how you’ve spent your time. It’s impossible to explain that even though you love this little human more than life itself, sometimes you just cannot wait to get away from them for five minutes. Or five seconds.

Because most likely, you haven’t been able to do that all day. At least not for any significant amount of time or for any significant reason. It’s just been you and them all day long. You’ve gone from breakfast to bath time and everything in between together. You’ve survived tantrums and tirades. Major meltdowns and many tears. Sure, you’ve also laughed and giggled and played. But somehow by the end of the day, those moments seem harder to remember. All the bad or difficult comes back to the surface as you are trying to catch your breath. Trying to muster the littlest amount of patience you have left.

RELATED: Some Days, Motherhood Is Just Trying To Make It Till Bedtime

Even if the day went off without a hitch. Even if it was a rare one filled with minimal tears and tantrums, there’s still that clock just slowly ticking away. Slowly creeping toward the moment when you can finally rest your head.

The strangest, and sometimes hardest, part is that once you finally can rest your head, you don’t. You instantly miss those little faces as soon as you are away from them. You feel a sudden sense of guilt for rushing away so much of the day. For the yelling and screaming. You want to go back in time. The very same time you spent all day wishing would go away.

Those minutes matter. The good ones and bad ones. The instant ones and the ones that never seem to end. They all matter. Every single second of them.

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So God Made a Mother's Story Keepsake Journal

Megan LaPorta

Hi! I am the mama of a 4-year-old daughter. I have recently made the jump from the corporate world to full-time mom life. I've always had a passion for writing & am so glad to be able to share it!

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