In a rare moment of peace today, I sat watching all 3 of my kids play happily (mind you, this lasted approximately 4 minutes, at which point someone screamed, another shoved, and the last one pooped in his diaper, all simultaneously – you can guess which kid did what). But for those brief 4 minutes, I observed my first-born, only 5 years old but wise beyond his years, becoming a little man right in front of me. Then I saw my precious daughter putting on a repeat performance of her ballet recital with the ladylike grace she rarely displays during her everyday life. And then I glanced at the baby playing happily in his exersaucer. He’s still fairly new to my world, but he is already nearly as big as I am (as evidenced by the recurring tendonitis I have developed from holding his fat little body).
I am so often trapped in the craziness of the life I lead that I don’t get that chance to just sit back and appreciate how much they have each grown recently. But when I do get that chance, I become a basket case. I’m pretty sure that this means that I will sufficiently embarrass them with my emotions in the future and that makes me a little more confident that I am doing my job as a parent. Now, let me dry my eyes and then perhaps I’ll be ready for more growing up! Sniff, sniff…..