a momma's thoughts on babies growing up
It is no secret that I ache for the days when my kids were babies.
And before I go on, I feel I really must preface the rest of this post with this truth: I absolutely LOVE my kids at their current ages too. Grace has got to be the kindest, most responsible teenager on the planet and she is great to spend time with. I am a little in awe at times of the person she is. Luke is fun and funny and helpful and appreciative and inquisitive and imaginative. I really just like him. And Drew..... I could bottle age eight and keep him forever. He is funny and his mind never, ever stops. We never know what he is going to say. He works hard to be a big kid and to please us. And Kate, my baby-even-though-she's-not-a-baby-anymore, continues to be one of the very sweetest parts of my life. I love to spend time with her- love her thoughts, love her songs, love our cuddles (... holding on to these for dear life!), love all that is her. I am a happy mom and don't feel like I am taking today for granted.
Yet I miss those baby and toddler days something fierce. I ache for when my babies were actual babies because this whole wonderful, hard parenting experience is just going too fast. I can't keep up. I swear to you it was just yesterday that Luke would crawl onto my lap and squish my cheeks together with his chubby hands and say "You my pretty, pretty mommy." It was also just yesterday that Drew crawled into Katie's crib to lie beside her and sing her a song. And walking Gracie into her first day of kindergarten? That was yesterday too, wasn't it?
But it couldn't have been just yesterday because somehow my babies are now 13, 12, 8, and 5. Grace has stars in her eyes talking about high school next year while Luke carries around a phone and loves to text with his friends. I have to search hard to find any traces of toddler in Drew's face, still present only when his dimple shows after he's made a joke. Kate is off at school all day, every day and I miss spending my days with her. Each night before bed she reads me a book now.
These kids are growing up. It makes me sad in a way that I can't even really understand or put into coherent sentences. I look at pictures from a few years ago and have to fight a lump in my throat. I think about Gracie turning fourteen this summer and my heart beats faster. My mind races with the math- 14 is entirely, entirely too close to 18. Eighteen means leaving home.
I wish for a magic button to start all over again. Not to change anything, just to get to experience it all one more time. And it's not that I don't remember how hard the baby and toddler days were. I still remember the reality- the neediness, the lack of personal space, the exhaustion, the noise, the mess, the diapers..... time hasn't yet worked its magic and made only the good parts stick in my memory.
Even so, I look back longingly. What I wouldn't do to go back to the days before the kids were off at school all day, every day. Before homework and sports and clubs and lessons occupied our evenings. Before their video games and laptops and phones. Before I had to spend so much of my day shuttling children from one place to another. Before busy.
Back to days where we didn't have to leave the house if we didn't want to. Back to storytimes at the library, mid day naps, and long walks in the stroller. Back to Cheerios on high chair trays, ten board books in a row, and outings to the park. Back to Sesame Street and long baths and footie pajamas. Back to the days when our world was smaller and there was no shortage of time together.
And before I go on, I feel I really must preface the rest of this post with this truth: I absolutely LOVE my kids at their current ages too. Grace has got to be the kindest, most responsible teenager on the planet and she is great to spend time with. I am a little in awe at times of the person she is. Luke is fun and funny and helpful and appreciative and inquisitive and imaginative. I really just like him. And Drew..... I could bottle age eight and keep him forever. He is funny and his mind never, ever stops. We never know what he is going to say. He works hard to be a big kid and to please us. And Kate, my baby-even-though-she's-not-a-baby-anymore, continues to be one of the very sweetest parts of my life. I love to spend time with her- love her thoughts, love her songs, love our cuddles (... holding on to these for dear life!), love all that is her. I am a happy mom and don't feel like I am taking today for granted.
Yet I miss those baby and toddler days something fierce. I ache for when my babies were actual babies because this whole wonderful, hard parenting experience is just going too fast. I can't keep up. I swear to you it was just yesterday that Luke would crawl onto my lap and squish my cheeks together with his chubby hands and say "You my pretty, pretty mommy." It was also just yesterday that Drew crawled into Katie's crib to lie beside her and sing her a song. And walking Gracie into her first day of kindergarten? That was yesterday too, wasn't it?
But it couldn't have been just yesterday because somehow my babies are now 13, 12, 8, and 5. Grace has stars in her eyes talking about high school next year while Luke carries around a phone and loves to text with his friends. I have to search hard to find any traces of toddler in Drew's face, still present only when his dimple shows after he's made a joke. Kate is off at school all day, every day and I miss spending my days with her. Each night before bed she reads me a book now.
These kids are growing up. It makes me sad in a way that I can't even really understand or put into coherent sentences. I look at pictures from a few years ago and have to fight a lump in my throat. I think about Gracie turning fourteen this summer and my heart beats faster. My mind races with the math- 14 is entirely, entirely too close to 18. Eighteen means leaving home.
I wish for a magic button to start all over again. Not to change anything, just to get to experience it all one more time. And it's not that I don't remember how hard the baby and toddler days were. I still remember the reality- the neediness, the lack of personal space, the exhaustion, the noise, the mess, the diapers..... time hasn't yet worked its magic and made only the good parts stick in my memory.
Even so, I look back longingly. What I wouldn't do to go back to the days before the kids were off at school all day, every day. Before homework and sports and clubs and lessons occupied our evenings. Before their video games and laptops and phones. Before I had to spend so much of my day shuttling children from one place to another. Before busy.
Back to days where we didn't have to leave the house if we didn't want to. Back to storytimes at the library, mid day naps, and long walks in the stroller. Back to Cheerios on high chair trays, ten board books in a row, and outings to the park. Back to Sesame Street and long baths and footie pajamas. Back to the days when our world was smaller and there was no shortage of time together.
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