Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Those old ladies were right

The Babe starts Kindergarten next week. KINDERGARTEN! I started this blog when she was 6 weeks old and I thought I might be going insane so I decided to capture my 3 a.m. musings here. And now she is four and a half and heading to school next week.

And the old ladies were right.

You know those old ladies. The ones who come up to you in the grocery store or at the mall and smile at your baby and say, "cherish them because it goes so fast". Those ladies who you silently flip the invisible bird to as they walk away because they don't know. They don't know how it took everything for you to leave the house and go to grocery store. That you were halfway out the door when the first diaper explosion happened, and then halfway in the car when the crying started and your boobs began to leak and you had to feed, and another diaper explosion and you would have never left the house except that there was no milk for the coffee and you had used the last of the vanilla ice cream as creamer yesterday. They don't know, or else if they did, they wouldn't tell you to cherish it. They would know that you are just wishing he would sleep through the night, that she would walk already, that he would go potty by himself, that she would get her own damn glass of water. Cherish these moments of insanity? Yeah right lady.

Except they were right.

Because now she can get her own glass of water, go to the potty alone, pick out her own pyjamas and grab a snack from the fridge and she does it all in the silly little ways that I don't want her to stop. But I'm scared they will stop. I'm scared that she will go to school and I will lose her and who she is now. I will lose her silly sweet self to her peers and to her teacher and her librarian and I'm devastated that I wished it all away.

Because you can't know until you're here. Just like you couldn't know about having a baby until you had one. And now you know what those old ladies meant but it's too damned late. And I'm grasping at straws having dance parties in the living room and reading all the stories, but it's like waking up Saturday morning and mourning the loss of the weekend before it's even over. But you can see the end, you can feel it, creeping up the back of your throat when you give her a hug goodnight and a kiss.

Tell me your silly stories and yes, I want to go to the library with you. I will do anything to keep you this young right now. To freeze this moment and truly appreciate it. To really see you and not want you to be older, faster, more verbal, less clingy. To just be with you. Before you enter this new world and you perhaps become someone else, someone I don't recognize as well.

I want to stop time. So I can cherish you, because it really does go too damned fast.


~ H