Slow Down

At the end of each day, after I've kissed my sweet baby good night, have cleaned up the toys, and settled in for what is finally a full night's sleep, I often marvel over how we got this far.

Generally speaking, parents have no clue what they are doing. Especially the first time around. It's amazing our abilities to intuitively know what to do, and figure things out as we go.

I've made no qualms about the fact that I thought the first 3-4 months were a bear. Those months were more intense than anything I could have anticipated, or could accurately describe to anyone who hasn't been there.

In those difficult moments, I wished time away. I wished for moments to vanish. I wished for milestones to come and go. I wished for days, and often nights, to pass more quickly.

Now that we've gotten to know our little man, and he us, we've settled into such an enjoyable groove. It feels like we've only just gotten to a point of pure enjoyment. A time where we can laugh through (most of) the hard moments, because we know it will all be fine. We're know we're going to blink and this time with our boy will be gone.

The other night, I was holding Liam's hand while we rocked before bed. I rubbed his ring finger on his left hand, thinking about how one day, there would be a ring there, a symbol of promise to be the keeper of his heart. And it wouldn't be me.

I pat his little bottom after bath time and watch him giggle, thinking how in just a few short years, loving pats on the bottom will be met with an eye roll and, "Mooomm!"

He makes hilarious noises and sounds to communicate, and I wonder what his little voice will sound like when he learns to talk. How he'll blush when I tell everyone how roaring was his communication method of choice.

He snuggles into my chest when we're rocking before bed, his little head a perfect fit in the space between my jaw and my shoulder, and he feels so small, so yet so big, in my arms.

I read him stories, the same ones over and over and over again, knowing that one day, sooner than I expect, repeating myself will be one of my least favorite past times.

Time is a thief, stealing moments and hours. Time lies, making me think there is more of it in a day, weekend, month. Sometimes, time feels like my enemy, seeking revenge for the times I wished it away, by making the best moments pass faster than the not-so-great ones.

So, I apologize, Time, for wishing you away. I promise never to do it again if you could just slow down.

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