So the other day I was off running errands like a mad woman with both kids in tow. I was at the end of a long string of stop-ins and store-running’s - signing some paperwork at the doctor’s office, while attempting to hold my 18 month old as he did cirque du soleil acrobatics from one arm. Meanwhile, my 4 year old was just beneath me egging him on and stealing his shoes. I was at my wits end when I heard a woman laughing behind me. She had the warm contagious kind of laugh that can draw a person in. So, I turned my head from the madness to see who this was and what could be so funny. To my surprise and utter annoyance I discovered it was me and my children that were cracking her up. I smiled back, not so politely and continued to work on the seemingly impossible task of signing the endless stack of papers before me. As I worked, and cajoled my children to behave, her laugh became louder and even a little infectious. If only I weren’t immunized by the knowledge that she was laughing at me and my very talented acrobat children, I might have laughed too. But, I was too engaged in my task – too worried about getting things done in time for the Holy Grail for mothers – both children asleep simultaneously. I knew I only had about 25 minutes before one or both would get their second wind – and then my dreams of a peaceful afternoon were out the window. The last paper presented itself; I signed it and turned around triumphant in my victoriously productive day of errands with the kids. I glanced at the laughing lady who was almost in tears from her giggling, fully intending to throw a sarcastic “you’re welcome for the entertainment” at her, when she said “My kids are all grown. Sorry for laughing, but you and your children were bringing back so many wonderful memories.” And all I could do was smile back – politely this time.
At that point I realized my children were definitely growing up someday – and that perhaps I ought to stop wishing the time away. Because as exhausting and difficult as it is to be a parent of two small children who are completely dependent on you for EVERYTHING, I will miss it when they are gone. The chubby little feet and tiny hands enveloped within my own are only temporary.
That evening as I tucked my 4 year old into bed, who believes our lives are stories, just like the movies and books she watches and reads, said this:
“This is our story mom?”
“Yes honey.”
“Someday I will have my own story?”
“Yes.”
“But, you will always be in my story, right?”
“Forever” I said.
And I knew that with each new stage of life comes the beautiful blessing of new experiences. That as we say good-bye to each passing day – a new one lies just ahead. And as good as it feels to be “productive” according to cultural standards there is nothing more productive than raising a child well – being fully present for each moment on their journey to guide them and pick them up when they fall from the amazing acrobats of life.
