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Today I stayed in my car a few minutes more than usual as my kids hopped out onto the hot driveway and ran inside. The cold air conditioning felt amazing after a long day at the local water park; so did the silence. Then it felt odd, so I turned on the radio. The song that started playing hit my soul: “Woah, we’re halfway there/Woah, livin’ on a prayer.”

I’m always living on a prayer, but I also noticed we are halfway there.

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Halfway through the year, more than halfway through summer, and I’m almost officially halfway through my thirties. Halfway through having my kids being little.
My thirties have consisted of pregnancy, giving birth, sleeping approximately 5-6 hours a night (not always in a row), and making sure my kids made it through another day. They’ve consisted of wearing my husband’s old t-shirts, messy hair, and an even messier house.

But my thirties have also contained warm snuggles, dancing in our pajamas, the Tooth Fairy’s first visit, Santa Clause, and many, many “I love you so much” followed by wet kisses.

I’m halfway through raising these little humans.

My babies are now four and six. In another five years, I’ll be 40, which I have heard is the best age. You don’t doubt yourself or the people around you. You know what you want, and you go for it.

But in another five years, my kids won’t be little anymore. They may not hold my hand or kiss me goodbye. They won’t need my help taking a bath or toasting a bagel or putting on a nighttime Pull-Up. They may not believe in Santa Clause anymore or want to do a dance party.

But in another five years, I will enter into a new chapter too. One that has a little more free time for myself to update my wardrobe. To focus on home improvements I’ve been putting off. To (hopefully) sleep a full six hours in a row at night and make myself a delicious toasted bagel.

My kids will be in double digits. They’ll be able to have full conversations about what interests them or what they actually learned in school. They’ll be able to play board games with their dad and me without us reading the directions for them and setting it all up. They’ll be able to help me decorate the entire Christmas tree instead of just the bottom half. We’ll be able to talk about more serious things, go on long road trips without stopping for a bathroom break, and they’ll be halfway to becoming the people they will grow up to be when they leave our home.

I look forward to that time, but until then, I’ll soak up the rest of summer. I’ll enjoy the other half of my thirties and the time I have left with my little kids who still have big hearts.

RELATED: I’m Done Wishing Away the Littleness

The older they get, I hope they will remember all the love we are giving them now, and remember how much they loved to be by my side.

I look down at my car clock and notice I’m halfway to bedtime. Then my son comes running out of the house covered in syrup and possibly orange marker. Guess I’ll keep living on a prayer until then.

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Rachael Ramas

Rachael is a writer and chief encouragement officer to her fam of four. She is a Jesus lover, baby hugger and schedule juggler. As a midwestern girl living in a South Florida world, she enjoys transcribing her time raising her fournager daughter and wild man one year old. She doesn’t take herself too seriously but does her kids bedtime.

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