August 29, 2016

It’s Monday

Most of the kids are back at school now, right? The excitement of last week is wearing off, now. Oh, no one is dreading the school day, but the wake up early, can’t eat, be at the end of the driveway ten minutes early has ended, like it always does. It’s not hard to resettle into your usual routine and I feel lucky that even though I love the languid days of summer, I also love the school year with its order.

I have finally come to a peaceful place with my children getting older. Oh, it’s not that I like it. That’s not it at all. There has never been a time over the years where I haven’t wished that I could freeze us just as we are. I think I always will. There is always something good happening right now that I’d like to keep forever. I hope that never changes. But, I’ve finally rounded the corner from mourning the inevitable to being glad we are where we are.

I’m glad I have a child who is almost an adult. I’m happy to see how well she’s grown up and what a good person she is. I’m happy to know that our parenting philosophy seems to have worked with her. I feel confident that she’s going to be okay when she leaves our home and makes her way into the world.

I’m glad I have Littlebit. I’m glad to know someone who is so smart and sweet and kind. I’m glad to be raising the nicest person I’ve ever met. I’m glad to know someone so happy. I’m glad to know that we have the abilities to help her make her hopes and dreams realities. I love watching her developing interests and I love watching her little dark head bent over a book.

I’m glad to live alongside the imaginative world of Baby Bee. I love finding her hand drawn characters. I love watching her be able to express herself via words and drawing. I love asking her “Would you like to be in band?” and for her to grumpily remind me that she wants to be an animal doctor. I think she can do that, if she wants to. And she can be a filmmaker, too, if that makes her happy.

There is nothing like the small, warm body of your baby sleeping peacefully on your shoulder. There is nothing like running your hands along little backs or patting little bums or holding tiny, warm hands. But those aren’t the only things. There’s nothing like having a gangly, leggy kid tucked up against you as she reads to you. There’s nothing like actually sharing interests with your child. There’s nothing like holding a much bigger, much warmer hand just because they want to. Not because they have to.

Life is good.

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