I want these moments to last forever
I have been SUCH a sap lately about my babies growing up. I love the ages they're at and the things they're doing, but I miss what they did and were into in the last stage and the one before that and so on. I'm pretty sure three babies has made our family complete, but in looking at photos from a few months ago of teeny Bristol, I find myself longing for one more. I miss those baby snuggles and the sweetness and closeness of an infant. I'm sad to think I won't experience one more first year with a baby filled with all of those "firsts" and watching them develop so quickly.
It seems like just moments ago we had just precious Jaden and she was our baby; now she's inching closer and closer to being 7 years old and is more independent and vibrant than ever. It doesn't seem possible that Sienna, who it feels like just joined our family with her roly-poly legs and big eyes and bigger smiles, is finished already with her first year of preschool. And no matter how much I savored EVERY SINGLE moment of Bristol's babyhood, here she is before me the funniest toddler I've ever known. She makes me laugh hourly as she discovers new things and waddles around doing one silly thing after another.
Some days, like all moms, I get caught up in having to cross off things on my to-do list and with being overwhelmed by a messy house and an overflowing laundry basket. Then I remember how fast these days go by and that when my girls grow up, they aren't going to remember whether we had a perfect, clean house or wore clothes ironed and starched. But they will remember the moments of laughter we've shared, the games we've enjoyed together, the picnics in the park where it didn't matter how messy they got or whether they finished their meal. And that's what I'll remember too--those special times are truly the ones that matter!
Sienna's teacher gave us parents the BEST gift on her last day of school--a thick stack of photos from the entire year with a copy of this poem attached. I'm going to find a special place to keep my copy and I'm going to read it when the day seems long and stressful. Because before I know it, Jaden, Sienna and Bristol will all be onto the next stage and I'll miss where they once were, toddler temper tantrums and all :)
WET OATMEAL KISSES
by Erma Bombeck
This was written in response to a young mother’s complaint about the house being messy and the children being unruly.
The baby is teething;
The children are crying.
Your husband just called and said “Eat dinner without me.”
One of these days you’ll explode and shout to the kids,
“Why don’t you grow up and act your age?”
And they will.
Or “You guys get outside and find yourself something to do,”
and “don’t slam the door”
And they don’t.
You’ll straighten their bedrooms all neat and tidy;
toys displayed on the shelf;
Hangers in the closet; animals caged.
You’ll yell, “Now I want it to stay this way.”
And it will.
You’ll yell, “I want complete privacy on the phone — no screaming!
Do you hear me?”
And no one will answer.
No more plastic tablecloths with stains of spaghetti.
No more dandelion bouquets.
No more iron-on patches.
No more wet knotted shoelaces,
muddy boots, or rubberbands for ponytails.
Imagine a lipstick with a point!
No babysitter for New Year’s Eve.
Washing clothes only once a week.
No PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree.
No car pools, blaring stereos, or forgotten lunch money.
No more Christmas presents made of library paste and toothpicks.
No wet oatmeal kisses.
No more tooth fairy.
No more giggles in the dark, scraped knees to kiss
or sticky fingers to wash.
Only a voice asking – “Why don’t you grow up?”
And a silent echo — “I did.”
It seems like just moments ago we had just precious Jaden and she was our baby; now she's inching closer and closer to being 7 years old and is more independent and vibrant than ever. It doesn't seem possible that Sienna, who it feels like just joined our family with her roly-poly legs and big eyes and bigger smiles, is finished already with her first year of preschool. And no matter how much I savored EVERY SINGLE moment of Bristol's babyhood, here she is before me the funniest toddler I've ever known. She makes me laugh hourly as she discovers new things and waddles around doing one silly thing after another.
Some days, like all moms, I get caught up in having to cross off things on my to-do list and with being overwhelmed by a messy house and an overflowing laundry basket. Then I remember how fast these days go by and that when my girls grow up, they aren't going to remember whether we had a perfect, clean house or wore clothes ironed and starched. But they will remember the moments of laughter we've shared, the games we've enjoyed together, the picnics in the park where it didn't matter how messy they got or whether they finished their meal. And that's what I'll remember too--those special times are truly the ones that matter!
Sienna's teacher gave us parents the BEST gift on her last day of school--a thick stack of photos from the entire year with a copy of this poem attached. I'm going to find a special place to keep my copy and I'm going to read it when the day seems long and stressful. Because before I know it, Jaden, Sienna and Bristol will all be onto the next stage and I'll miss where they once were, toddler temper tantrums and all :)
WET OATMEAL KISSES
by Erma Bombeck
This was written in response to a young mother’s complaint about the house being messy and the children being unruly.
The baby is teething;
The children are crying.
Your husband just called and said “Eat dinner without me.”
One of these days you’ll explode and shout to the kids,
“Why don’t you grow up and act your age?”
And they will.
Or “You guys get outside and find yourself something to do,”
and “don’t slam the door”
And they don’t.
You’ll straighten their bedrooms all neat and tidy;
toys displayed on the shelf;
Hangers in the closet; animals caged.
You’ll yell, “Now I want it to stay this way.”
And it will.
You’ll yell, “I want complete privacy on the phone — no screaming!
Do you hear me?”
And no one will answer.
No more plastic tablecloths with stains of spaghetti.
No more dandelion bouquets.
No more iron-on patches.
No more wet knotted shoelaces,
muddy boots, or rubberbands for ponytails.
Imagine a lipstick with a point!
No babysitter for New Year’s Eve.
Washing clothes only once a week.
No PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree.
No car pools, blaring stereos, or forgotten lunch money.
No more Christmas presents made of library paste and toothpicks.
No wet oatmeal kisses.
No more tooth fairy.
No more giggles in the dark, scraped knees to kiss
or sticky fingers to wash.
Only a voice asking – “Why don’t you grow up?”
And a silent echo — “I did.”
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