On Halloween night, Katherine’s Dorothy shoes betrayed her and she fell up the stairs onto our neighbor’s porch. She cried immediately and for a long time. Through her tears, she was insistent that we keep trick or treating and given our past two years with weather related Halloween cancellations, I agreed that we could continue. I knew something wasn’t quite right though. Katherine never ran to catch up with her friends and she didn’t sprint to the house that gives out full sized candy bars.
Katherine woke up on Friday morning still unable to put pressure on her foot so she stayed home from school and I took her to the doctor. An x-ray revealed no break but the doctor felt significant swelling and suspected a deep bruise. Caroline not only had school all day but plans after school and in to the evening. Rob was out of town. Not so long ago, a day at home with one child, who couldn’t play outside or go on errands, would have felt like an eternity.
I will admit that parts of the day dragged and one of us may have used the word bored a couple of times but overall, the day marked a change for me. I realized how rare it now is to spend uninterupted time with one child. How rare it is to have no plans for hours on end. How rare it is to have a child want my undivided attention. Over dinner with friends that same night, we thought back to the women who gave us advice as we stood in the grocery store lines with our babies. We remember looking at these women, through desperately sleep deprived eyes as we brushed unwashed hair out of our eyes. We remembered thinking these women were crazy. These women who told us to enjoy those moments. That the baby years would fly by and one day we would miss them.
I won’t lie. I don’t miss my sleep deprived eyes or my unwashed hair. But I do miss those moments. And on Friday, I got a glimpse of that time again. That time when a child was totally dependent on you. That time when the clock seemed to stand still. That time when you were the entertainment. Not soccer or dance or playdates but you. And I was glad for the reminder.
Thank you. When I wrote this, the picture felt right and now I’m freaking out that I just put my wrinkles out there for the world to see!
That is so, so sweet – and definitely something I need to remember as I just frustrated with my son saying for the zillionth time: “Mom! I need you!”
So hard to remember it in the moment Sarah! I remember those days well!
So lovely! I don’t miss many parts of those days either, and my children are only 3 and 6, but I can already feel the ache in my heart for the time when they don’t want to make forts with me.
It really is amazing how quickly it all goes by!
Oops….missed the wrinkles so had to go back and look for them. And I still didn’t see them!!!!!
Ha! Perhaps if I referred to them as laugh lines instead they would be easier to spot!
a lovely picture, forget about the wrinkles, they aren’t there! I miss all those moments, they go by so quickly
Thank you Justine! The moments really do fly- I am seeing that more and more the older the girls get.
A beautiful reminder from a beautiful lady…laugh lines and all 🙂 Thank you.
Thank you Kim!
This is beautiful.thank you fir this reminder.I am home with one today as well and I will look out for the moments. Happy healing!
Thank you Pamela! Hope yours is healing as well!
Stacey, this brought tears to my eyes. It is so true. Sometimes it’s the most random things that give me this reminder, but when it comes, it’s so bittersweet and sometimes – heartbreaking.
I’m glad you enjoyed your day together, and hope Katherine’s ankle is mending nicely.
Thank you Shana!