05/31/2026
The channel was quiet tonight.
No boats coming or going. Maybe because of the cool breeze off the lake today.
No rush to be anywhere. Just the gentle sound of water lapping against the shore, a few boats resting and rubbing themselves on the docks. That soft, peachy golden glow of a summer sunset, and Chris getting a bonfire ready.
We bbq’d ribs, made a salad and roasted some potatoes while we watched Pawn Stars. 😂
As parents, we spend so many years in the beautiful chaos of raising children—repeated nagging to get up out of bed, jam packed calendars, driving, cheering, teaching, doctor/dentist appointments, homework, laundry baskets waiting to be put away, stepping on legos, breakfast dishes waiting to welcome you home at the end of a hectic workday, worrying, and wishing for just a little peace and quiet. And a good night’s rest.
And then one day, boom 💥, almost without warning, the house gets a whole lot quieter.
The kids grow up. Just like that. They make plans of their own. All that waiting for daycare payments to be over, wanted them to be at the age that they can stay home alone, waiting for that last set of braces to come off. And suddenly it’s just the two of you, sitting by the water, watching the sun go down.
You always hear them say, be careful what you wish for.
The quiet years arrive sooner than you think.
Hold your babies a little longer, say yes to one more game, one more story, one more drive, one more hug. Stop for two seconds to listen to that funny story they want you to hear instead of drifting away on your phone. These days feel endless when you’re in them, but they are gone in the blink of an eye. Just like that.
I’m still guilty, I still find myself saying that “I can’t wait”‘for this or that. Just wishing it all away by accident.
Tonight, I have to pause. I’m grateful for the peace, the sunset, and my man bestie beside me—but also for the reminder of just how quickly life moves.
Don’t take these blessings lightly. 🤍 (advice to self)
