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Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Freeze Frame

A snapshot of our life: This evening there was some confusion between the words piñata and piano at our house. For a few minutes there, G had us all completely confused. He knew he had it wrong but every time he opened his mouth to say piano, piñata came out. We all laughed and he finally got it right…

Got to cherish those moments. The look on G’s face as he sounded out the word syllable for syllable, the prideful giggle that followed and the exchange of a glance between me and Deeda. The little things that prove G is still a little kid. The reminders are few and further between.

He just looks more mature in the face. He wears fancy tennis shoes and has favorite T-shirts he knows are cool. He sings Cheeseburger in Paradise and names the Foo Fighters as his favorite band. When Deeda carries him to the bathroom to brush teeth (a ritual 'round here) he looks long and his feet look huge. He is long. His feet are huge. Size 11.5 (and I have a size 12 in waiting). Other than the occasional vocab slip up or teary tired moment, the kid has really grown in the last few months. He’s writing his name, sounding letters and doing simple math at school. I think about where he was at the time of B’s birth and it seems like he’s come nearly as far as the little one. Leaps and bounds.

Of course, I feel like I could literally see B grow if I looked closely. It’s insane. At bedtime these days, we say “night-night.” He waves! And we go rock. We moved the rocker into his room about when he stopped falling asleep in the middle of whatever chaos was going on in the living room. Still the easiest child to put to bed, he’s typically asleep before I can sing a single round of Twinkle Twinkle. Rocking him to sleep is a pure joy and every night I hold him for a while as he sleeps so I can appreciate his babyhood. It’s the kind of moment I know I have to soak up. It’s the kind of moment that, tonight at 7:42, inspired me to get this entire thought process on paper.
Here we are and already B is ten months and a few days. It’s time to order birthday invitations. He’s been on the outside longer than it took to “grow him.” These are the last couple of months we count in measures of months... Sippy cups are in play. Bottles are less frequent… Crawling is turbo-charged and standing and stepping from one piece of furniture to another close by is a favorite game along with Peek-a-boo.

Tonight as we rocked I was thinking about how these are the best months of babyhood. There’s a routine in our life that’s in greater than three hour increments. Plus, he’s got all kinds of interactive tricks that are very entertaining. Most importantly, he’s still a baby by most accounts. He still feels like a baby, with his head in the corner of my arm, even if his feet are sticking out from under the other arm a quarter of a mile…He still looks like a baby in his footy PJ’s with his paci. He still sounds like a baby when he cries to be picked up or because I took my phone out of his hand… And he still smells like a baby just after bath and when he spits up all over his shirt each and EVERY morning when we put him in the car seat to go to school (there’s a magic button or something).

It’s in these months, the second time around (and almost certainly the last time for us) that I feel like I fully realize and appreciate the importance of soaking up the baby things before they completely disappear. And it’s this feeling—that can feel like sadness from time to time—that turns into the most genuine gratitude I have ever felt. All is right in the world for a few minutes while we rock. It’s this feeling—that can feel like sadness from time to time—that has me living more in the moment than I have since I was a child myself.

Ask my other half, I have been guilty on many occasions of making myself miserable by trying to look waaaaay down the road. I’ve wanted a detailed photo of what the future looked like. I wanted promises and guarantees. I didn’t realize it before now, but as a mom, I’ve flip-flopped. In fact, I’ve nearly neglected the future. Since G was born, I’ve been so focused on right now I haven’t looked down the road much… too busy to think beyond right this minute. This weekend. This month. Unless you’re trying to plan something with us, in which case as much advanced warning as possible is critical to getting on the agenda. We’ve got a lot of obligations you know. Always something…

I am in the process of balancing the future with the now. Living in the now—which is more than getting through the day. Planning for tomorrow, while appreciating tonight. Both are important. The kids grow up… all too soon, the kids grow up… When it comes to aging, the future always seems to arrive quickly. The future is all on the brain these days. It’s unclear in a lot of respects. I am thinking about how I want five years from now to look. 10 years from now. 20. In a good way, not the paralyzing way of the past.

In the mean time, I know this for sure: these days of being the parents of young children are a short time in our life. In reality it’s just a few years. I want to make the very most of them. So, that when we look back, it feels like longer than it was. It feels like longer than it was because there are so many wonderful memories made in this time—the short time is so rich.

I can draw a parallel to college. It was only four years (thank you very much), but so much happened during that time—it was such a great time—that when I look back it seems like a majority of my life's memory. In actuality, it was just a small fraction. And real quick, while on that topic, I’ll just add how excited I am about the plans in the works for the fall. Boulder, here we come.

We celebrated my uncle Steve’s 70th birthday over the weekend. A friend of his he’s known since he was 7 or 8 years old attended the gathering. That’s so cool. I hope my oldest friends make it to my 70th. I feel certain for Steve and his childhood friend David, “life moved pretty fast” (I loosely quote Ferris Bueller). Happy Birthday Steve!

At the same party, I visited with a friend and her 18 year old son. I remember when he was probably 5 or 6. Basically G’s age. How did he get to be 18? So. Fast. It was a couple days after the party that I saw a photo of the same mother and son on Facebook and it brought me to tears. I am certain it seems like yesterday that she sent him off to Kindergarten. I see in his face the little boy he was… but it’s just barely there. I see in her eyes the pride in what he’s become…Freaks me out. Here’s why…

On Monday we marked the first day of school and the first annual Boo Hoo Breakfast for my neighborhood circle of moms. It was an occasion worthy of a vacation day in the name of fun, total relaxation and distraction for a mama worried about her baby on his first day. I was happy to support my dear friend (with mimosas) when she returned from walking her little boy to the school around the corner for Kindergarten. I remember being 23 thinking my coworker was crazy when she showed up teary on the first day of school. I had no idea. But now. Now! I know that this school year will fly by and in the blink of an eye it will be my turn to take my first BABY to school. And about a minute after that, it will be Baby B’s turn… Make it stop. Just for a minute. Freeze the frame.


Remember this scene from Big? I couldn't find the whole thing... but this gives you the idea. It does seem like they grow up overnight sometimes.

1 comment:

  1. Amy,Darling DIL - you had me in tears the first time I read this and now reading it for the second time, yep I'm bawling again.
    Thank you, thank you, thank you for the visual of our precious grandboys-"a night in the life."

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