Up until literally today, I couldn't wait for my kids to grow up. "When he doesn't nap it''ll be so much easier!" "When she's in school, it'll be so much easier!" "When he can help with chores, it'll be so much easier!" Then today, all of a sudden, I felt this overwhelming desire to freeze time. Today (a day I spent mostly laid up in bed) I realized: It's not ever going to get "easier".
We've already discovered that there are intricacies to a five year old boy's personality that do not exist in a two year old's. e.g. lying. So while he won't throw as many temper tantrums, he will sneak pieces of candy out of the Ikea "pick a mix" and hide it in his pocket taking little bites whenever my back is turned (Tuesday). Then a whole conversation about stealing and lying will ensue in the car with an eventual temper tantrum over the discipline I've decided to issue (not getting any of the candy I had actually paid for).
Before we know it, he will be a teenager. Lord willing, he won't lie to us regularly, but he will be a teenager. We all know what that means...
Oh, Lord... what does that mean?!?!
I had to go into Simon's room and wake him up from a dead sleep at 6pm because he had taken 2.5 hours to finally fall asleep for his nap, He is deliriously adorable when I have to do that. He always starts jabbering about stuff right away. Today, it was cars, as he heard one zoom by on our street right as I got him out of his crib. So we walked next door to the guest/work room with the "car watching" window. He was still a little out of it and his face was frozen in a stare waiting for a car to drive by or his senses to return (whichever happened first). And I just stared at his little profile. That nose and those cheeks. That straw colored, uncut hair. Those blue-green eyes. That innocence. And I cried.
Yes, he's mischievous, but he's also sweet. He will bash apart a painstakingly made Lego car one minute, and go give the sweetest "sa sa (sorry) Abey" hug the next. And then perform the ritual all over again. Soon, he'll be the Lego creator and I won't be able to hold him after his nap and gaze into his face, because if he's anything like his brother, he will never sit still long enough for me to get a good look.
And in that moment I felt time slipping away. I suddenly regretted all the times that I wanted to rush them through this (or any other) stage in their short little lives. They may not remember these days, but their dad and I will. And I want to cherish them forever, not have a hard time remembering because I was so focused on getting to the next, "easier" stage.
So, here I am, at 12:45am trying to cherish that sweet moment from today. And for my sake and theirs, I'd like to be better and writing and sharing about our daily life and experiences on here so that we will all have a way of remembering the days that I know are fading away much, much too fast.
We've already discovered that there are intricacies to a five year old boy's personality that do not exist in a two year old's. e.g. lying. So while he won't throw as many temper tantrums, he will sneak pieces of candy out of the Ikea "pick a mix" and hide it in his pocket taking little bites whenever my back is turned (Tuesday). Then a whole conversation about stealing and lying will ensue in the car with an eventual temper tantrum over the discipline I've decided to issue (not getting any of the candy I had actually paid for).
Before we know it, he will be a teenager. Lord willing, he won't lie to us regularly, but he will be a teenager. We all know what that means...
Oh, Lord... what does that mean?!?!
I had to go into Simon's room and wake him up from a dead sleep at 6pm because he had taken 2.5 hours to finally fall asleep for his nap, He is deliriously adorable when I have to do that. He always starts jabbering about stuff right away. Today, it was cars, as he heard one zoom by on our street right as I got him out of his crib. So we walked next door to the guest/work room with the "car watching" window. He was still a little out of it and his face was frozen in a stare waiting for a car to drive by or his senses to return (whichever happened first). And I just stared at his little profile. That nose and those cheeks. That straw colored, uncut hair. Those blue-green eyes. That innocence. And I cried.
Yes, he's mischievous, but he's also sweet. He will bash apart a painstakingly made Lego car one minute, and go give the sweetest "sa sa (sorry) Abey" hug the next. And then perform the ritual all over again. Soon, he'll be the Lego creator and I won't be able to hold him after his nap and gaze into his face, because if he's anything like his brother, he will never sit still long enough for me to get a good look.
And in that moment I felt time slipping away. I suddenly regretted all the times that I wanted to rush them through this (or any other) stage in their short little lives. They may not remember these days, but their dad and I will. And I want to cherish them forever, not have a hard time remembering because I was so focused on getting to the next, "easier" stage.
So, here I am, at 12:45am trying to cherish that sweet moment from today. And for my sake and theirs, I'd like to be better and writing and sharing about our daily life and experiences on here so that we will all have a way of remembering the days that I know are fading away much, much too fast.
. (Thanks to Erika Knox for these adorable pictures of our little people!)
Thanks for the reminder! I am having difficulty with our "threenager". Then my heart melts how she is sweet to PJ and when she makes us laugh or impresses us with her intellect/memory.
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