We all know the dangerous distraction of talking or texting on our cell phones while driving. Hands free driving is not only an important safety guide, it is a law.

This week I ran across an article written by a mom who found that in her own life the distraction of a cell phone lost her some precious years with her daughter. With open honesty she shares this:

I lost two years with my daughter. It was not because of a personal tragedy, an illness, or because I was incapacitated. No, tragically my two year absence was of my own doing.

This is not one of my shining moments as a mom, but I share it in the effort that one person reads this and says, “That is me. I am on the verge of losing something sacred that I will never get back.”

I share my story so that one relationship can be saved…

When my youngest daughter was two-years-old, her older sister went to kindergarten. I had spent the previous five years as a stay at home mom moving to several new cities in a short time period, focusing solely on my babies and my family.

So when my oldest child went to kindergarten and my youngest was no longer a “baby,” I dove into things that stimulated my mind, allowed for use of my God-given talents and engaged me in conversations with other adults…activities I had been desperately missing.

Well, as many of you know, once you display leadership abilities to a volunteer organization, school or a church, you begin receiving multiple requests to head things up. This is exactly what happened to me. And with each successful event, I felt validated. I felt like a productive citizen. I had taken on an identity other than “Mom.” I was filling a five-year void.

But I took it too far.

And while I was doing good for so many, my family got lost….especially my two-year-old daughter with strawberry blonde hair who smiles with her whole entire face and has a voice like an angel.

She is so good, so content, and so “easy,” that she allowed me to shuffle her around, sit through long meetings, patiently tolerate unending workdays, phone calls, and endless emails.

She didn’t complain; she never once made mention of the completely distracted and overly occupied lady she called “Mama.”

My sweet two-year-old just went right along with my overscheduled life, not knowing she was missing the heart, the focus, and the company of her mom.

She had no idea she was being given the leftovers, the worthless scraps of her stretched-too-thin mother.

I had a nagging feeling about how much I was doing outside the home, but I justified my bursting-at-the-seams calendar by arguing that my involvement was desperately needed at my church, my daughter’s school, and in my community. I completely denied the fact that these activities were consuming my life, my health, my happiness, and my wellbeing. I refused to acknowledge how much my activities were costing my little curly haired girl and my family.

And then last July, my Breakdown Breakthrough Moments occurred when I finally admitted the REAL answer to the question people continually asked me.

“How do you do it all, Rachel?”

With tears streaming down my face, I forced myself to acknowledge that in order to “Do It All,” I missed out on life.

I missed out on the good parts of life. I missed the Sunset Moments.

And then with the kind of pain that takes your breath away, I realized my two-year-old daughter, who was not yet in school, was the greatest victim of my admired ability to “Do It All.”

In that painfully honest breakthrough moment, I vowed things would change. I vowed I would change.

And by the grace of God, things have changed.

In the days between July 2010 and now, I have been making up for lost time. I have fallen utterly and completely in love with my four (almost five) year old daughter. I want to spend every waking moment with her; I just can’t seem to get enough of her. And in spending time with her, I have gotten to know her, really know her.

Reading this article struck a painful chord with me.  This woman was pursuing her own interests, developing worthy talents and helping others. I too have reached a time when I believed I could start spending more time on what I like to do. There is nothing inherently wrong with this. In fact, I believe that having interests and hobbies outside of motherhood is vital in having a balanced and healthy life. The danger is in tipping the balance too far, as this sister shares.

A similar thing happened to me. Last summer I participated in a community musical and when there was no costume director asked to help out, I volunteered. I found myself wrapped up in a huge task that was both difficult, but also exhilarating. Just as this sister shared, I felt important and validated. I was using my skills and talents to help others and create something wonderful. It felt good. This summer rolled around and the opportunity to be in a musical and be the costume director came up again. Remembering the good feelings of last year’s experience (and forgetting how hard it had been) I said yes. I found myself committed to a huge task that led me to pushing my children away and replacing our play time with stressed hours of “I must get this done first!”

I too, experienced a painful breakthrough moment when my five year old, who had recently successfully stopped sucking her thumb, started up again; and my two year old began spitting, desperately trying to get my attention, even if it was the notice of an angry, yelling mom.

Since waking up to my own distractions, I have scheduled myself better to have fully present play time with my kids and to fulfill my commitments during nap time and bed time. I’m still in the middle of my task, needing to get a lot done. But by re-prioritizing, I have seen the difference it makes in really being part of their lives again. Nothing compares the special light they get in their eyes when they see that mom is here and ready to play, and I have found renewed satisfaction and joy in being their mom.

I have a testimony that as fully present, hands free mothers we have a powerful impact on our children. They gain a confidence and self assurance that is incomparable. Calmness and peace knowing that there is a person in the world, always available to them, to comfort, uplift and make things better. I believe these feelings start unconsciously as a child, and will follow them the rest of their lives into adulthood. I know this because I am a product of a hands-on, available mother who remains fully present when I need her.

What a joy it is to be a mother, and what a powerful impact we have. Join with me in pledging to be hands free and fully present in our children’s lives and please share with us the delightful results.

Read more about Rachel’s story and experience at www.handsfreemama.com.

The Painting is called “The Music Lesson” by Sir Fredrick Leighton. Find more beautiful art at www.enzieshahmiri.com.