I’ve become a cliche.
It was me, standing behind him giving him the constant nudges to grow up, get bigger, start walking, talking, and wearing underwear. It was me who happily boxed away the baby onesies with faint butternut squash-colored stains I could never get out. It was me who was thrilled when he was finally old enough to go to school, to bathe himself, to read a book without me. It was me who said to get rid of the training wheels.
I keep looking at him and wondering where the time went. I can’t remember what he was like at three or two or one. I can barely remember the way he talked at four, only a few phrases. I thought I would always be able to remember, but my memory is like a fractured bowl with a slow leak. It’s only when I go back to retrieve something that I can see how much is lost. I was so foolish.
For so many years, I would look at him—as I was getting after him about leaving something on the floor or being too noisy—and I could see in his eyes that he felt bad, that he should have known better, that he was sad to have disappointed me.
When he looks at me now I wonder if he sees the same thing in my eyes.
I can’t particularly relate but you relay it so well I feel like I understand.
We want our kids to grow up but when they’ve grown up, we want them to be little again. It’s so sad! I’m like you, I can’t remember the little things. Life is so short.
I can’t fully articulate the feelings you just evoked. Thanks, I think. I’m going to hug my boy a little longer tonight.
I try to remind myself that he won’t always want to snuggle me, or give me goodnight kisses, or give me that cute wave from the school bus.
Last night, I was looking through James’ photo album of his first year. As I read through all of the stories I had written down about his first valentines day, or his first easter, I couldn’t believe all I had forgotten. I was so grateful that I had written down the little bit that I did, because I wouldn’t have been able to remember half of it! Time really does fly by, so I think we have to be present in the little moments. Just give that cute kid a hug everyday, and he will feel how special you think he is right now.
i love kelly’s advice “be present in the little moments.”
he is one cute kid! is that naturally curly hair? i’m green with envy.
Seems not too long ago, that Christian was bundled up, and sleeping in the bath tub at Deanna’s during the family get togethers! If I had to name one thing about Christian that I envy, it would have to be his gift of never ending, genuine enthusiasm! Christian is AWESOME! What a photo!
not your sin, your son. We all do it. some great advice here in the comments.
“We spend the first few years teaching our children to talk and to walk and the next 20 teaching them to shut up and sit down” Bill Cosby. That one always makes me laugh. Don’t be too hard on yourself. He can read your blog when he doubts your love for him when he is 15! Then he will know how much you love him!
I am guilty of this too! I hate it so bad that I want them to grow up so that I can stop feeling guilty about all the time I ignore them while I am schooling. Make any sense? Probably not. My brain is on overload. But I get exactly what you are saying! Thanks for saying it so beautifully!
Oh Tiff, you’re a better mom than you realize. He knows that you love him, and the fact that he’s doing so well is in part credit to you. Don’t worry, it’s all ok.
By the way, that was beautifully written. Really good.
“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy” (from Mr. Holland’s Opus).
I’m grateful that you’re his mom. Just feel grateful. No regrets.
So Sad! I thought that about my firstborn–that I would always remember what she was like as a baby. But then #2 came along right away and now I can’t remember anything about #1 before age 18 months. Sad.