Nostalgia

It seems like every time we drive to preschool these days, I see at least one mom, dad, or grandparent taking a stroll around the block with a little one in either a stroller or a big wheel.

And for the briefest of moments, it strikes me as odd. Don’t these people have places to go? School schedules, dance classes, play dates, or work?

And then I remember. The answer is no.

It brings me back a couple of years to when Magoo was just a toddler. It was just her and me, day in and day out. She was too young for organized events, and school was still quite a bit in the distance. I didn’t have any other children to attend to or any other real priorities besides her.

Our days were slow. Sometimes they were long. But almost invariably they were filled with large amounts of time when there was just nothing that we had to do.

Flash forward a couple of years to now, and we do have stuff to do. We do have preschool a couple of days a week and we have dance class, and play dates, and doctor’s appointments. Overall, our days are still pretty laid back and schedule free, but ever so surely we are slowly moving towards life with big kids. Life when different days bring different activities, and I become more chauffeur than day coordinator.

And this makes me sad.

Yes, those endless days of monotony get difficult after awhile when all we crave is conversation with grown ups about something other than baby poop or feeding schedules. But they are also so sweet.

Every day I feel blessed to get to wake up whenever the girls wake up and slowly make our way downstairs, stopping to play with some toys on the way. We make breakfast. Or we wait a bit. Because at this point it doesn’t matter.

But eventually, usually the clock strikes and we have to get ready to go somewhere. A subtle reminder that the clock keeps on ticking and as the days turn into years, these precious moments will slowly fade away.

These days, these precious days of snuggles and cuddles and naptime struggles will one day be our yesterdays.

And perhaps I’m just a bit nostalgic because we will hit a couple of milestones in the next couple of weeks. Goosie will turn two, and this is actually bothering me more than I thought it would. In my mind, two becomes a toddler. I know that in reality, she has been a toddler for quite some time, but when they are one, when you count age in terms of months rather than years, they are still part baby. At least you can fool yourself into believing that. But two. That seems like a whole different ball game.

And then a couple of weeks later, Magoo will turn five. FIVE. I can’t even believe it. Half a decade. For years, even well before I had kids, I thought of five year olds as kids who had friends and rode bikes and did things that kids did. Four year olds were different. They were still little ones. They still needed their moms by their sides to kiss the boo boos away and snuggle with them.

Now that I have an almost five year old, I see that my perception was a bit off. Because she’s a little bit of both. She has friends, and I drop her off at preschool, watch her stand in line with her friends, and then I drive away. She can handle life in the world without me for at least a little bit of time. But then she comes home and we cuddle on the couch and read books.

These days, find myself carrying her more. Asking her to sit on my lap more. Trying to hold her as we stand at church. (That one is really quickly fading away.)

And I think it’s because I just want to hold on a little bit longer. Hold her hand while she will still let me. Kiss her on the cheek in public before she finds it embarrassing. Take for granted the fact that at the end of the school day, she looks forward to coming home and being with me. Because I am her home. I am where she rests.

So now I am going to go and feed and cuddle Mae and rest in the fact that for a few moments longer, they are babies – newborn, one, and four.  Five and two can wait for another day.