Years ago I wrote a post called Goodbye to the Baby. I remembered that easily because I felt it so deeply. And now, doesn’t 4 & 6 sound so, so much older than 3 & 5? Just a month ago I was still in that place where my sons’ ages made people’s eyes widen a little. Now, eh. No big deal.
The boys are, as I type, getting haircuts. Damon just texted me this before and after:
Elliot apparently aged several years right there in the chair, and has possibly joined a gang. I am a battle picker. That means the boys wear their hair how they like it and pick their own clothes when they care to. Which is why Elliot went to school today in white bucks. I’m not all laissez faire though. So far they don’t know that sweat pants exist.
This morning Damon gently suggested that we probably don’t have a need for our pack and play or exersaucer anymore. His timing was excellent. Normally I would shout down such nonsense, but I just put a big down payment on a vacation for next year and I suppose I could squeeze a few dollars out of some of that gear. I guess my nostalgia has a price tag.
When I was a little girl my parents sold our dining room table. I laid on top of the table and cried for the poor thing, part of our family that we were coldly discarding. I should probably make sure that I am not home when the buyer comes for the stroller. I drew the line at the tricycles. I will ride them myself if I have to prove their usefulness.
I loved the baby days. Loved, loved them. I find crazy toddlers delightful. At least my own. That’s all over now. And that makes me really sad. What saves me is that the boys now, as they are, continue to be endlessly interesting to me. It’s harder now to know what they need, but I’m fully engaged in trying to figure that out. They are still funny and charming with great big hearts. And so different, which is also a gift.
They are such a gift. I’m just overwhelmingly aware of my good fortune. That they are who they are. That they came into my life when they did. That Damon is their Dad. That my mom is right down the road and a major part of their days. That so many people surround them with love, and all the different ways that can look. I miss the babies, but I have more than enough.
(Alden is waiting for his invitation to join Mumford and Sons.)