The Promise Land

When the girls were little, my brother-in-law Jay used to joke about the Promise Land: the day that our then-toddlers would play independently, when life would be "simple." We imagined...

• Stress-free dinners that would not include something labeled a "tot."
• The day when picking a restaurant didn't involve an analysis of how noisy the restaurant was -- with noise being a plus because a screaming toddler would, most likely, go unnoticed.
• The day when we didn't order off the menu as soon as the waitress appeared -- in fear that she might not return again and we might have to leave early because of an unpredictable toddler.
• A living room that wasn't overwhelmed with Legos or stuffed critters.

Some time... somewhere along the way, we reached the Promise Land. There were no signs announcing our arrival, no commemorative t-shirts, no trumpets heralding the day.

It just happened.

And I appreciate the Promise Land...

But there are times when I miss what it was like before...

Because while we are in the Promise Land, my girls are past it. They are in their own worlds. They are independent, fiercely loyal to their friends, and social creatures. While they still want to spend time with us, their worlds are filled with friends and adventure (and even their adventure can leave me in the dust... like riding this log while mountain biking in Sisters, Oregon).

I'm grateful for their spirit, but I wish... oh how I wish... I would have savored those tough times BEFORE we reached the Promise Land. There was an innocence and simplicity amidst all that complexity.

For now, I strap on my helmet and try to keep up -- as long as my girls will let me tag along. Because utimately, this is the Promise Land.