How many times have you heard people who have older children tell you that some day you will miss the age that you are currently dragging your feet through? Stop and smell the roses! They say that you shouldn’t wish any stage away. I’ve read plenty of articles on this topic and I even have listen whole heartedly to all of the country songs out there that expresses the same sediment. I’m a fan of them. I listen to them with tears streaming down my face some days when I want to pull my hair out because I just want one car ride in silence, one car ride with no fighting, one car ride that doesn’t consist of yelling and screaming just to get to school. It’s days like that, that makes it very hard to not wish this particular stage away. I’ve recently realized that it’s not necessarily the stage that I want to be gone, it’s more about the day that I wish to be over. Over and over again. Eventually the day is over and maybe even “that stage” has come to an end and just like that it’s gone and you didn’t even realize it.
Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of days when I watch my daughter doing her homework and I smile. I couldn’t be more proud of the little girl she has grown into. I love those moments, those are the days I want to cherish and I want to be right where I am. it’s those moments that set me back to the baby stage. Though I had many sleepless nights, days when I counted the minutes until I could speak to another adult , times when I doubted the choices that I made, I still miss that stage. I never thought I would. I miss the daily snuggles when my son couldn’t sleep anywhere but on my chest listening to my heartbeat. Or the way he ate his food when he was trying something new for the first time. Of course who wouldn’t miss the sanity during that stage because I didn’t have to listen to two kids fight over what cup they got at breakfast. I weigh the sleep deprivation with my sanity on a daily basis. We must let the smaller joys get us through the harder moments.
Eventually the day is over and maybe even “that stage” has come to an end and just like that it’s gone and you didn’t even realize it
Yesterday I saw my first grader talking to the bus driver. It took her the whole kindergarten year to talk to the bus driver and now she’s chatting with her like she’s an old friend. I got both kids a snack and a drink and got them settled at the breakfast bar. I sat down on the couch with my own snack and I glanced up to see my four year old son swinging his feet in the stool. He balanced back and forth on the bottom bar of the stool not quite able to reach both feet at the same time. All I could think of was how it was going to feel like a blink of an eye before he does indeed touch that bottom bar with both feet. Just like that he wouldn’t even be sitting at the breakfast bar because he will be out with friends. I know how fast it goes. I try and remind myself that those five minutes must be the reminder to not long for that day to end.
Eventually the day is over and maybe even “that stage” has come to an end and just like that it’s gone and you didn’t even realize it.
During the heart of winter when we are shut in for days upon days. The fighting begins the second the sun rises, food hits the floor like it’s going out of style and the dust bunny’s in the corner have practically sewn themselves into a blanket that would fit your youngest child. When three nor’easters hit home within three weeks of each other leaving a blanketed amount of snow and leaves you with no power for days. Days like that makes me open a bottle of wine come 5 o’clock, I find myself wishing the day to end. However, I fight back, I held onto my seven year olds hand tighter during our “snowventure” because I’ve realized recently that she doesn’t reach for it as often as she used to. I fight back the tears when my daughter screams at the dinner table that dinner “tastes like dirt!” I hold onto the feeling of her hand in mine knowing that the days she reaches for my hand will end sooner than I’d like. I pray for those moments to see me through the tenth meltdown in an hour because I just couldn’t get dinner on the table soon enough because my four year old “is just SOOOOO hungry!!”
Eventually the day is over and maybe even “that stage” has come to an end and just like that it’s gone and you didn’t even realize it.
Let those smaller moments in. Savior them when they are happening. Take a step back and remember how much your going to miss them some day. Put the phone down and look at their tiny little fingers in yours. Snap a picture of the innocence as they run down the street enjoying the fresh air and “snowventure” your going on because some day soon when school gets called they will retreat to their rooms to gossip with friends and you’ll have all of the time in the world.
