Just for me

This particular post is a journal entry, of sorts.  It will include personal ramblings of my life that I want to remember.  It will not be exciting (well, that's not much different from my normal posts).  The grammar may not be correct.  And there could possible be some spelling errors.  So, you can stop reading here if you don't care about all these rocks rolling around in my head that I'm going to try to put on paper.  Or, if your bored, nosey, or just plain interested, then keep on--by all means!

I know my children are not that old (9 and 6 at the time I'm writing this), but already I miss those days when they were toddling around and doing silly baby things.  I was looking through some older pictures and wistfully wished those days back.  I can't go back to them now.  I can't change mistakes I may have made.  I can't go back and do more activities with them.  I can't laugh with them more. I can't read with them more.  I can't even go back to tell myself to be more patient with them, even when I think I had run out of patience.  As I sat and looked at the pictures it made me think of several cute things they did that I don't want to forget.  Like the time pastor asked for someone's favorite song for the congregation to sing and my son yells out, "BATMAN" or the time my daughter peed on the floor at church, then removed her panties without me knowing and then the pianist went to throw her in the air and he got a nice view of all her girly parts.  Or maybe there was the time Savannah told someone that her mom was really big and she bumped into things a lot (I'm NOT big!!).  Or the time Caden and Savannah wanted to dig a hole to hell in the front yard (that's just weird).  Or the time Caden pulled his pants down and pooped in the front yard for everyone to see as they drove by.  And if I were to sit here too long and think about all the time gone by that I didn't enjoy, I could get depressed.  I looked at several of the pictures and, on a few of them, what should have been good memories, I had bad ones.  I remembered something like, "Oh, that was the time she wouldn't leave me alone while I was trying to read a book."  And now, looking back, I don't even remember what it was that may have made me mad at the time.  All I remember is that I was mad and, judging by the smile on her little chubby face, I should have been glad.  The cold hard fact is that the past is past.  You can't change it.
And while it sounds cliche, the future isn't here yet, either.  And I shouldn't spend too much time dwelling on what's going to happen, what might happen, or how it will all unfold.  All I have is today.  Today I can do something with my children.  Today I can laugh with them.  Today I can read with them.  Today I can be more patient with them, even when I think my patience has run out.  Today I can make new memories with them so that, hopefully, I won't have any regrets tomorrow.
It's hard.  It really is.  Being a parent is difficult.  No one ever said it was easy.  And if any parent had known how hard being a parent really was, they probably would have never become one.  I guess that's why no one tells us until it's too late.  I know I've made my share of mistakes.  I know I am not a perfect mother (in fact, I am so far from it than you can imagine).  But I try.  And that's all I can do.