Days Gone By
I never was one of those women whose heart sank when she saw a tiny infant, but it happened to me last Sunday.
I was in the nursery at our church and a woman who I hadn't seen before came in with a tiny baby girl wrapped in her arms. The girl was all dressed in pink and snuggled sweetly against her mother. The baby didn't make a sound.
I looked at my little boy playing with a truck on the floor and thought to myself he'd never be that little again. He would never be so small and helpless in my arms again. He still needs me, of course, but not like that.
Hendrick is quite independent for a 16-month-old. For the most part, he can feed himself, calm himself to sleep and play happily with his toys while I tend to other things around the house.
I was always in such a rush to have the infancy stage over with so I could get a good night's sleep that when I looked at that baby girl, I realized I got exactly what I wanted. The time went by in a flash. Never to be recaptured.
Now I'm beginning to understand why so many mothers cry when they send their kids off to kindergarten, why they tear up at graduations and weddings. Is part of the reason for those tears a lament for all the things they wished they had done during those tender years?
There are some gifts in life that are only meant to be ours for a short time. We can wish away quickly for convenience sake, or we can cherish them for the (albeit arduous) blessings that they are.
Last night I did something I seldom did while Hendrick was an infant: I rocked him to sleep, hugging him tightly and kissing his little blond head until he was ready to go back into his crib.
I can't undo anything in the past or erase any of my first-time parenting shortfalls, but I can remember to make the most of this stage in his life.
And as my friend in playgroup reminded me this afternoon after I huffed about how difficult it is to run after Hendrick and make sure he doesn't break anything in her well-kept home, he'll be out of this stage, too, before I know it.
My heart sank again. And I once again had to remind myself to appreciate this moment before it goes away.
I was in the nursery at our church and a woman who I hadn't seen before came in with a tiny baby girl wrapped in her arms. The girl was all dressed in pink and snuggled sweetly against her mother. The baby didn't make a sound.
I looked at my little boy playing with a truck on the floor and thought to myself he'd never be that little again. He would never be so small and helpless in my arms again. He still needs me, of course, but not like that.
Hendrick is quite independent for a 16-month-old. For the most part, he can feed himself, calm himself to sleep and play happily with his toys while I tend to other things around the house.
I was always in such a rush to have the infancy stage over with so I could get a good night's sleep that when I looked at that baby girl, I realized I got exactly what I wanted. The time went by in a flash. Never to be recaptured.
Now I'm beginning to understand why so many mothers cry when they send their kids off to kindergarten, why they tear up at graduations and weddings. Is part of the reason for those tears a lament for all the things they wished they had done during those tender years?
There are some gifts in life that are only meant to be ours for a short time. We can wish away quickly for convenience sake, or we can cherish them for the (albeit arduous) blessings that they are.
Last night I did something I seldom did while Hendrick was an infant: I rocked him to sleep, hugging him tightly and kissing his little blond head until he was ready to go back into his crib.
I can't undo anything in the past or erase any of my first-time parenting shortfalls, but I can remember to make the most of this stage in his life.
And as my friend in playgroup reminded me this afternoon after I huffed about how difficult it is to run after Hendrick and make sure he doesn't break anything in her well-kept home, he'll be out of this stage, too, before I know it.
My heart sank again. And I once again had to remind myself to appreciate this moment before it goes away.
1 Comments:
I hear you. My kids are way beyond the toddler stage. My friends (my age) are having babies (all surprises, believe me). I know I can't have anymore, for medical reasons. I don't know that I envy them, though I do feel that pang in my gut, a yearning of sorts, at times when I think of the new babies that will be...
I'm not whining, really. I am agreeing with you...the time goes by so fast. Many times I wish that I could have remote control (like the movie 'Click') and freeze a moment when my child is alseep in my arms, smiles at me, or laughs infectiously.
I've realized I will lavish great affection on my children well beyond childhood. That baby in pink will be gone from me, but not the memory, and the millions of photos, at least!
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