Today my patience has run thin and all I could think about was having a few minutes to myself, but as you fell fast asleep on my chest, it was an easy choice despite a list of things needing to be done.
Because instead … I held you.

I was going to get the dishwasher unloaded and the overflowing pile in sink washed.
But instead I held you.

I was going to get the clothes folded that have been sitting in the dryer, refluffed one too many times. And I was going to rewash the laundry that sat wet over night.
But instead I held you.

I was going to grab my two minute shower and if I was lucky, I was going to blow dry my hair and maybe throw on a little make up.
But instead I held you.

I was going to answer some work emails and respond to a few missed calls that have needed returned over the past 72 hours.
But instead I held you.

I was going to vacuum up the crunched mini wheats that you accidentally spread through the living room and stair well, and likewise clean up some of the toys that are strewn in every room but the playroom.
But instead I held you.

I was going to get dinner in the crock pot and go through the pile of mail that has been sitting on the counter top since Monday.
But instead I held you.

I was going to carry you upstairs and lay you down as I was pretty certain you wouldn’t awake if I did. Maybe you would have been more comfortable in your bed?
But instead I held you.

You see, your little legs are already bunched up on the chair as it seems like it was just yesterday that your tiny toes were still resting upon my stomach.

Your tiny breaths and sweet hands fell so perfectly around me, yet soon you will prefer to stretch out in your own toddler bed.

It turns out that my plans for this time weren’t going to accomplish what I have right here in my arms.

I found my calm and the peace and the satisfaction right here, right now, because of one simple choice…

Instead, I held you.

Regan Long is a public speaker, paid family leave advocate and lifestyle coach. She is the author of 101 Moments of Motherhood and the co-author of A Letter for Every Mother, as well as the CEO and founder of The Real Deal of Parenting. In the passage above, she reminds us to love what really matters, to let everything else fall where it may. Indeed, as cliche as it may sound, the days are long but the years are short.

So, let’s take the time to treasure these days while they’re still around.