I find myself often saying that about my own children, and I’m
willing to get over my newly acquired parenting cliché manner of speech if you
are. Right now our oldest is at such a
fun age because you never know what will come out of his mouth, and his
personality is really starting to develop.
Truth be told, the kid cracks me up.
I don’t just mean he makes me chuckle in an “oh, that’s so cute for a
three-year-old” kind of way. I mean he
literally makes me belly laugh, like we’re friends. He’s witty, and he makes up silly stories
that give me an excuse to embrace the world of make believe. Spending time with him helps me remember and appreciate
just how fun it was to be a kid. Seeing the
world through his eyes brings back memories from my childhood that I didn’t
even realize were there anymore, and the prospect of reliving those glory days
side by side with him makes me ridiculously excited to “grow up” again with
him. A second chance at being a
kid?! Yes, please!
And then there’s our daughter - that sweet, content,
7-month-old, toothless grin. Man she’s
at such a fun age right now. She’s
always excited to see me, to the point where her legs kick wildly and she
starts to giggle and rub her face because she doesn’t quite know what to do
with her hands. Despite all that
excitement in our presence, separation anxiety hasn’t quite set in yet, so we’re
in that magical balance where coming and going are easy. She’s also extremely curious and observant
and engaged, always lunging for anything that is just inside her grasp. But here’s the kicker – she’s not mobile yet.
She’s starting to babble more and string sounds together,
but she doesn’t talk back; there is no need for discipline. We’re past the sleepless nights (for the most
part), and not yet worried about potty training. She’ll keep her pacifier in her mouth on her
own and we’re not close to a point where I feel we need to start weaning it
away. She’s gotten the hang of purees,
so we’ve hit a new normal with her feeding schedules. I could go on and on, but suffice it to say –
7 months: I like you a lot.
As one phase ends and we move into another, I mourn the quickly
disappearing baby stage. It’s sad every
time I pack up clothes she has outgrown, and when my husband mentioned putting
away the play gym I think I actually pouted.
However, the blessing of the second time around is that you know every
stage ahead brings its own exciting experiences and opportunities for growth
and learning. When I realized we could
get out the activity table to replace her play gym, I perked up again,
remembering all the fun our son had standing with that toy as he built up strength
in his growing legs that would eventually walk on their own. I started to get excited thinking about our
daughter taking her first steps, and eventually toddling around and making
sentences. Who will this little girl
become? Will she be like her brother, or
completely different? How will they
interact together as they get older?
I learn more about both of our kids each day, and it is such
a privilege to watch them develop. Some
day they won’t be so little, and the things they need from us as parents will
change. And while that makes me sad, I
also eagerly anticipate what is to come.
So far, every stage has been my favorite, and since our children are
three years apart I always have two simultaneous favorite stages that are
separated by exactly that much time. Each
period has its challenges, yes, but the rewards keep getting better. The thought of cheering our children on at a
future band concert, math club competition, or sporting event (I’m keeping all
options open), makes me downright giddy.
I cried with the pride of a Harvard mom when our son recently went to the
dentist, so I can’t imagine what it must be like to sit in a crowd and say, “that’s
my kid out there.”
Regardless of what hobbies or interests our children explore
and the talents and blessings they discover, I will relish each moment. I consider it an honor to play a role in
helping them become decent human beings, and it’s a responsibility I both take
seriously and find to be outrageously fun.
And if I’ve done my job right, I hope someday they can look back at
their childhood as a whole and say, “Man, that was such a fun age.” I know I will.
