Live Like I Am Living

All the time in mommy blog posts across the world, tragic news stories, or Tim McGraw's greatest hits albums I hear the phrases "treasure every moment" or "live like you were dying." Most of the time these phrases are attached to some kind of "because."

Treasure every moment because... you never know when your precious child will be taken away from you.
Live like you were dying because... you only live once and you don't want to live with regrets.
Treasure every moment because... life can completely change in the matter of a second.

And so on.

As I've read these stories and the precious sentiment behind them, I have often found myself thinking about this concept. How do I live like I am dying every day? How do I seize the moment, treasure every minute with those that I love to make sure that I don't end up with regrets? With these questions comes inevitable guilt. I ask myself, "Was I treasuring my life when I spent 2 hours watching TV last night instead of connecting with my husband?" or I'll say, "Dang, I failed at that YOLO thing today because all I did was clean my house and make sure Sam didn't seriously injure himself in some way."

But through hours of allowing my mind to contemplate this concept, I've come to a comforting conclusion:

There is no way to "treasure every moment."
There is no way to consistently "live like you were dying."

In fact, I'd go out on a limb and say living like that is counterproductive and unrealistic to real life.

I understand where mommy blogs and news articles are coming from when they tell us to reexamine our lives and try our best to live them to the fullest. The realization I've come to, though, is that sometimes living life to the fullest means doing the things that are completely mundane and seemingly meaningless.

I think about what my day would be like if I knew Sam only had 24 hours to live. Assuming he was healthy and could still do everything he can do now, I imagine it would start with me waking early in the morning (perhaps never sleeping the night before) and creeping into his room to watch him sleep. I'd watch his belly go up and down and love every breath he took. I think our day would consist of Isaac not working, nothing else in the world getting in the way. We would go to the park or let him ride some fun kiddy rides. We would eat all of his favorite foods. He wouldn't hear one correcting word or pay any visits to timeout for bad behavior because we wouldn't have the heart to go through with it. My computer would be completely ignored as well as any other media-related device, unless it was a music player and we were dancing together. With all of that and more, I guarantee that at the end of the day I would have some regrets. I would think of things I could have done differently to treasure my time with him more.

So as I think of that "ideal" day of treasuring my time with my family and living like I or they are dying, I think about how unrealistic it is. No work would ever get done, no bills ever paid. Our house would stay dirty because what's the point of cleaning? Sam would never learn the difference between good or bad behavior because I would treasure anything from him at that point.

So how do I treasure the special moments without feeling guilty that more often than not, my life will feel just normal? Well, I answer myself, I guess it would be best just to treasure it all.

Maybe in the end it's not that I need to change much about my life. I don't need to spend an entire day complying to every one of Sam's whims in order for me to feel fulfilled and not have any regrets. In fact, that would be really unfortunate. What if life is really more about treasuring the mundane things because it's the mundane things that teach us how to really live? I don't need to feel guilty about every time I put Sam in time out or tell him to go play in his room by himself, because he learns things through those times that I could not teach him otherwise. This life is about learning and we have to experience the normal to learn that the exceptional is exceptional. How else would we appreciate it?

I guess the conclusion I've come to is that I need to live... like I am living. Because, I am. And at the end of the day, if something tragic or unfortunate occurs that changes my life forever I hope I can look back and say to myself, "It's ok, you lived like you were living and you did your best to love it."