One Sunday morning after an especially harrowing church service, a sweet, little cherub-faced granny made her way over to where I stood bouncing a crying, over-tired baby in one arm and keeping a tight grasp on a wiggly three-year-old with the other.
"Enjoy them while they're young," she whispered as she patted my arm, "they grow up so fast."
I smiled and nodded but inside I was thinking, "Yeah, right, and I enjoy bamboo shoots under my fingernails, too."
It wasn't until a few years later that I realized the wisdom of granny's advice. It was the day my oldest son's little hand quickly slipped from mine as we walked to his kindergarten classroom.
"I can find my room myself, Mom," he stated as his earnest, blue eyes met mine. "I'm not a baby."
It was at that moment I realized granny was right - he was no longer a baby and I had not savored every messy kiss, too-rough hug, or sticky pat on my cheek. I ached for that little person whose tireless arms were constantly tugging at me to pick him up.
I realized I had thrown away too many scribbles, put off too many bed time stories and ignored too many never-ending questions like why God made brussel sprouts.
From that moment on, I vowed things would change. I would no longer consider motherhood as a well-earned badge of honor or an "I survived" t-shirt.
I vowed to enjoy diapers for they would soon be replaced by BVDs.
I would live for hugs and kisses of any sort, for they would soon become a quick wave of acknowledgment from 50 feet away.
I would appreciate wooden blocks and Fun Fruits for they would soon become drum sticks and Big Macs.
I would gladly watch endless reruns of Sesame Street for they would soon be replaced with Freddy Krueger flicks.
I vowed to enjoy running next to a wobbling bicycle in stifling humidity because I would soon find myself running next to a car trying to stuff in a bag of BVDs as it cruises off to college.
I would cherish the words, "MOM, can you..." because they would soon be replaced with the deafening silence of an empty nest.
Of course I haven't always made good on these pledges. Even with the renewed resolve, I continue to be haunted by granny's advice every time I say things like, "Why can't you just... grow up?"
The bittersweet truth of motherhood is it's not how many diapers you change or how many teacher conferences you attend, it's not how many emergency room visits you endure or how many gray hairs you earn along the way. The only thing that matters in the end is that you were there.
Mom, I know I am growing up so fast - thanks for being there for me.
Aww, that was sweet, Kaydee. Your words were speaking to me, someone who unfortunately needs that reminder sometimes. Other times, I know how lucky I am to have a 3-year-old. Just last night at bedtime, my wife asked him what he was going to dream about. "Daddy," he said. He leaves me speechless. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteAmen, sister. Time flies when you're not paying attention!
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