Are ALL these children yours??

Yesterday was a lovely day.  All the kids, plus an niece, had a great time playing outside.  But, the kids had some money just burning a hole in their little pockets and really wanted to go to the candy store.  We put the preschoolers in strollers and walked to the candy store for some snacks and a nice, cold drink.  A pregnant lady pushing a stroller, a preteen pushing another stroller, and two school aged children walking.  They kids were all given a limit in the store and bartered with each other, traded parts of snacks, and decided to share some things to squeak in under the budget.  We were there for quite a while. 

As we walked up to pay, each child paying and getting things bagged up individually, there was a lady in line behind us.  She waited quite a while to make her small purchase as my children counted out pennies and traded coins.  I offered to let her go first, but when all my children stepped out of the way she told us to go ahead.  We left the store, and began to get everyone settled with snacks, drinks, and in the strollers for the short walk home.  And then it happened.  The lady came out of the store and asked me the question I always hate. 

"Are all these children yours?"

I try to instruct my children to be kind, so I often have to stifle the snide answers that I can think in an effort to practice what I preach.  All the little eyes turned to me.  I sighed internally, smiled, and said, "Only four of them.  One is my niece." 

She patted my belly, which I usually hate, looked into my eyes and smiled.  "God bless you and your lovely family.  Cherish these days.  They go by so fast."  And then she walked away. 

My eyes teared up.  I am so used to defending our 'large' family to everyone that starts the conversation in such a manner.  I get frustrated with others because I do not think that we are a large family, there are only four children.  To me large is more like eight, ten children.  Which also sounds fine to me.  Also, Any frazzled mother who is doing their very best for their children can tell you that a negative comment in the middle of the day seems so judgemental, and stacked up the comments begin to crush your spirit. 

Yet her kind eyes and sweet comment refreshed me much more than my cold drink ever could.  I do cherish everyday.  I already see it slipping away too fast.  Walking through the grocery store and seeing a couple of children whining for something to their haggard mother I smile.  Seeing people lining up their children to fill their plates at family parties and church events, again, I smile wistfully.  Sure, I still have a preschooler and will soon have another baby.  But the older three are more independent, can take care of themselves, and a part of me longingly remembers three pairs of tiny hands hanging on my shirt as we go to the buffet, cross the street, or walk into church.  And now I seen them skipping ahead, texting friends, laughing and talking with each other, and I squeeze David's hand gently, holding on tightly while I still can, while he still wants me too.  . 

My biggest fear is that when I am behind a family with children counting out pennies I will wish that I took the time.  Time for watching clouds, catching bugs, painting nails, building forts, developing the relationship that will encourage them to call me everyday, count me among their friends, bring me grandchildren to play with.  So many other things, worthy things, pull at me for my time, time I only have so much of.  And I have none to spare.  Not if I want to look back and smile, knowing that each day was full of laughter, love, and joy because I choose to spend my time wisely.  And I don't want to miss a minute.