It's an important thing to remember.
I don't have the best memory. I admit that and my husband often reminds me...it has good parts, though. It means I might laugh at a story that I heard before, but it is brand new to me. It means that I can completely forget an argument that might have seemed like the biggest thing in the world. The down side for me is that there are things I WISH I could remember and I just can't...
What did Donovan look like when he was two? How much hair did he have? How did it feel to hold his little chubby hand in mine? Those memories are like trying to hold onto grains of sand...they just keep slipping. In the moments when I realize how much is just gone, I want to cling to the here and now. Looking at my long-awaited baby daughter who just fell asleep nursing and now lays on my chest...all pink cheeks and sweet breath...I just want to drink in every second of it. When I look at Patrick who is all go-go-go with his still unstable toddling run and his exuberance...his passionate love of motorcycles and cars and riding in Daddy's truck...listening to his sweet voice say, "Wuv you, mama..." And then there is Donovan. My great, big boy now nearly six. When did he get so tall and skinny? When did he learn to love Star Wars and Batman and Superheroes? When did he start saying things like, "Mom, you know Uranus is the 7th planet from the sun?" He is strong and confident and outgoing. He is loving and cuddly and learning to figure out where he fits in the world. He is the baby that changed my whole life. He is the one that first made my heart burst open and realize that to be "Mom" is all I ever wanted.
So on the days where I feel like I just might lose my mind being at home all day every day with a 5 year old, 2 year old, and 3 month old...on the days where one more defiant child, one more question about what we might do that is fun, and one more request for a snack/drink/story/show might just drive me right over the edge...for all of those days, I want to remember what it means to be "Mom" to my three babies.
So that when Patrick climbs onto the sofa and says, "Read Hungry Caterpillar, Mama?" I will put down the laptop. I will take him on my lap and read. I will read it 75 times in a row if that is what makes his little heart happy.
5 months ago
Okay, I know you posted this a while ago but I just got around to reading it...I must say, it made me cry. Perhaps that is just because I am pregnant and hormonal or because what you said couldn't be more true. I know my baby is only 2 but already I think back and it is hard to remember what it felt like to hold him in my arms when he was an infant. On top of that, let's not even get into how it makes me feel when I think about one day not being able to remember what it was like to hold his chubby little fingers in my hand or hear him say "Ni-Night Mommy, thank too" when I walk out of his room after reading him his bed time story.
ReplyDeleteThose little things really are what you have to think about when you are, let's say, standing in line at the pharmacy with three screaming children...haha :)