Sunday’s For Better or For Worse comic strip pretty aptly describes parenthood. I’ve mentioned the “time-space continuum” that is motherhood before, but after a discussion earlier this week I was thinking about it again.
There is something at every age that we want our children to grow out of. Right now, I’d like Hayden to grow out of throwing fits and not communicating verbally (although he has a plethora of new words over the weekend: bubble, baby, Jesus (‘Dedus’)).
But somehow it seems like the memory of all those things fade almost as soon as they’re past. Sometimes when I complain to my mother about the typical foibles of his age, my mother tells me that it’s all a very distant memory for her (my youngest sister will turn 16 this week).
Ever since he was born, I’ve been in “hurry up and grow up” mode. Get past the lump stage; start reacting to me; start sleeping through the night already; start crawling; REALLY, start sleeping through the night; start walking; stop nursing; start talking. I’m always ready for him to move on to the next milestone.
And then you think about the good things of this age, and you remember to treat each moment a little more preciously:
- Spontaneous hugs, kisses and snuggles.
- Unconditional love.
- Adorable stories—For example, a few weeks ago in church, his class had a lesson on animals. He wasn’t paying much attention until they got to a picture of a cat. He ran up, grabbed the picture from the teacher and started giving it kisses. Did I mention who his best friend was?
- His little lectures—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to capture them on camera, since he will never do anything cute once he sees the camera’s on, but Hayden talks all day long. But even cuter than the babbling are the very adult-like expressions and hand gestures that accompany them. I feel like I’m getting a college lecture all day long!
- His laugh.
- His expression and the way he’s scrunching up his shoulders and pointing here:
Having the ad upside down doesn’t hurt the cuteness either.
I could go on for a long time (who couldn’t go on and on about their own child?!), but even just listing those five is making me feel better!
The title of the post comes from a song that I’ve referenced before. It’s a lullaby that my mother sang to us when we were little and we sing it at each of the sisters’ weddings:
Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,
I’ll taste your strawberries; I’ll drink your sweet wine.
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
Ere I forget all the joy that is mine
Today I can appreciate the best things about this age.