Little things make me smile. And sometimes (well, most of the time) I forget to write them down. Like how Lucy straightens her legs and points her toes (smooshing her totally chunky thighs together) when I lay her down to change her diaper or how Grace just has to do a little dance in front of the mirror (while singing some silly song to herself) in her towel after every bath before she can gear up to get her PJs on. And I want to remember this stuff. I want to cherish these moments while they last. The moments are the light that gets me through the trenches some days.
There is strength to be gained in soaking little moments in. Dropping everything and reading with your nine-year-old because you realize she’s more important than any other project you may be working on. Watching two of your children, who are usually at each other’s throats, on a day when they’re getting along. Watching the glow on your child’s face when his dad is praising him for mowing the lawn well. Letting yourself get caught up in the music your toddlers are dancing to in pure delight. I think it’s all part of the secret for enjoying and loving life as a mother of small children, a lasso-er of chaos…cherishing and soaking in those little moments.
There was a day shortly following Christmas last year I remember well. I finally got myself and my two at-home-during-the-day kids to the mall for some post-Christmas returns and exchanges. It wasn’t fun. The girls were doing all kinds of acrobatics on the stroller and poor Claire had hurt her knee on the trampoline the day before and kept whining that she couldn’t walk. So as I carried her through the mall in one arm while trying to contort my other arm enough to successfully maneuver my stroller laden with bags and a chunky baby, I noticed a mother with a new little baby–maybe a month old. He was fussy and she was trying to comfort him while maneuvering her stroller, too. Oh, I wanted to just ask her if I could hold him and snuggle him for a little bit. I wished I had my old Baby Bjorn to hand over to her. I could never go to the mall without it when I had babies that little. And then the thought of having my tiny snuggling babies right next to me while I did my daily tasks started eating at me. How they looked when they were sleeping, how they smelled, how they sighed in their sleep, and yes, even their sweet little newborn cries. Baby hunger crept in. “How could those days have passed so quickly??!” I asked myself in awe as I looked at my own crying “baby” and her whimpering sister side-kick.
And then a thought struck me. A few years from now I’ll be roaming the mall and all my kids will be in school. Yes, it will be nice. It’ll seem so free and strange in a good way. But, at that moment in the mall this week I realized that on that day in the future when I’m wandering the mall all fancy-free, there’s no doubt I’ll run into my double self from that post-Christmas shopping day. She’ll be wrestling with her toddlers with a frustrated look on her face, assuring them that they’re almost done with the errands of the day. And oh will I ever wish I could go back, at least for a little while, and slow life down while I snuggle those kids up and kiss their chubby cheeks off. I’ll try to envision them as their little selves climbing on me and whining and needy, and I’ll probably tear up a little just like I am right now because I’ll miss those little people. I know the bigger form of my little people will we wonderful. I can’t wait to “meet” them and grow with them. But on that day at the mall I realized, once again, how much I need to cherish each moment, right now, right here–snotty noses, whiny faces, dramatics and all that craziness in one great big package in a bow. Because when I blink they’ll be all grown up. And those moments that I cherished will still be there.
A few months ago my four-year-old daughter Claire declared that Lucy (our 20-month-old) is a “girl” now (as opposed to a “baby”). When I go watch Lucy sleep at night before I head to bed I’ve noticed that Claire’s right…that baby of mine is filling up her crib.
But what I have to say back to Claire is, “that sleeping ‘girl’ with her long eyelashes resting on her chubby cheeks, along with you, Grace, Elle and Max, will always be my ‘babies’ whether you like it or not.”
“And I’ll always be your ‘mama’.” Because I’m holding on to those baby memories and moments with all my might.
QUESTION: What do you do to help yourself really capture and enjoy the beautiful little moments of motherhood? What are some of your favorite moments lately?
CHALLENGE: If you have a favorite memory you haven’t taken the time to write down, do it today!
Your words have touched my soul…for I know I missed so much along the way. My children are all grown now, and this poem reflects a lot of what I feel:
My first grandchild gave birth to a daughter,
making me a great grandmother at the” tender”
age of 58…
HOW DID THE YEARS PASS SO QUICKLY?
How did the years pass so quickly?
It seems it was just yesterday,
that you were my little girl
who was running outside to play.
I know there were years in between,
years that went flying right by.
I wish I could pinpoint that day
when you packed up and said good-bye.
I seem to recall a young woman
who came and brought me her child.
And looking into that baby’s eyes
I remembered your beautiful smile.
How did the years pass so quickly?
It seems it was just yesterday
I watched as my little grand daughter
went running outside to play.
I know there were years in between,
that seem to have flown right by.
I hated that day in the summer,
you were packed and saying good-bye.
And now my grandchild is a mother,
where did all those years go?
I look at this beautiful baby girl,
who inherited her grandmother’s nose.
How did the years pass so quickly,
it seems it was just yesterday
that you were my little girl
who was running outside to play.
© Forrest Phelps-Cook
I just came across this site today as I was about to delete my subscription to the Neighboorhood New email I get each week and never have time to look at. I looked at it today for some reason and saw your sister and a little blurb about this web site. I remembered you and her from D.C. and thought I would check out the site. I am so grateful I did and so grateful I have read your post. I have a little boy with Down Syndrome and some days are very long with all the Physical Therapy, Speech Therapy, Occupational Therapy and nurse visits. He is 18 months and just barely learned how to crawl. I was feeling sorry for myself and frustrated that he isn’t walking yet. As I read your post I felt such peace and realized how lucky I am to be able to hold onto my little baby much longer then most people. He will snuggle in my arms and let me feed him his bottle, I get to carry him in my arms longer then most people and I get to enjoy the wonders of a little baby much longer then many others. I get to hold onto those years a little bit longer and was reminded today of that very fact. Realistically I will be able to have this little boy as a little child forever and that is a blessing in many ways.
It was raining this morning as my youngest son and I waited for carpool. We were ready a bit early, and the driver was late, so there was more time than usual to stand on our porch. I stood looking at the dandelions in the yard, and the fast growing weeds and lamented the fact that the rain was preventing my use of Round Up on the grass in the sidewalk cracks. I was anxious for the carpool to arrive so I could finally shower and brush my teeth. Meanwhile my son was walking in an odd little pattern and I realized he was following some wet pawprints on the cement. Suddenly he exclaimed “These are dog footprints, ‘Emmy dog’ has walked on our porch in the night!” At that moment I let myself glide away from my adult concerns and I slid into his excitement. “I wonder what kind of prints you will make with your shoes?” I asked. And he stomped in puddles and made designs on the porch and we wondered at the patterns. I left the shelter of the doorway and walked in freezing bare feet into the puddles and made footprints too. We counted how many toe prints I left and how many lines his shoes made. We compared our prints to those of the dog’s. Suddenly the carpool arrived and my child splashed away to preschool. For a few extra moments I stood with my cold, wet feet and felt the joy and utter satisfaction that comes when we ignore life’s ‘weeds’ that are always there and delight in our children who are gone too quickly.
Your comment from the perspective of a great grandmother gave me pause. Someday that will be me . . . The tantrums, tears, and endless laundry will all seem like a blink in time. Instead of thinking “will this phase or that struggle ever end?” I will wonder ”How did the years pass so quickly?”
Thank you for sharing the wisdom of your experience.