I was frustrated. I had been on the phone with technical support trying to get my computer fixed for over three hours. Nothing was fixed. I had grand plans on this snow day to accomplish much on my to-do list and I had done nothing. The snow was beginning to fall harder and the picture in my head of a clean house, sipping hot chocolate while I watch a chick flick, was slowly but surely slipping away. My 16 year-old son asked to be taken to the rec center to play basketball. I was irritated. Why does he need to go somewhere? Why do I have to take him? Why does no one think any more of me than to be their taxi driver? I hate driving in the snow and I hate being a passenger driving in the snow even more while my son learns how to drive! Needless to say, my son picked up on my mood. He looked at me and said, “you’re going to miss this one day”. I stared at my little boy who is no longer little and those 7 words hit hard. He was right. I know that…I already am.
I’m missing my babies; the smell of their skin after a bath, the first smile and first giggle, their tiny hands and feet, watching my husband swaddle them and sleep with them on his chest, rocking them for hours, singing songs, and wet baby kisses. I’m missing my toddlers; cuddling in the bed, The Land Before Time movies, the first time they saw the ocean and tried to swim, big hugs, boo-boos that only mommy can fix, first friends, and bedtime stories. I’m missing my elementary-aged kids; kindergarten soccer, buttered noodles, music programs, class parties, the excitement of our trip to Disney World, believing in Santa Clause, trick or treating, the tooth fairy, endless hours at the pool and memorable birthday parties. I’m about to miss my middle school kids as my daughter will finish 8th grade this year; the budding athletes they became, the friends they became inseparable with, our mandatory summer vacations and family dinners, homework, travel soccer, and their budding independence. And I know what I’m getting ready to miss before I can even blink; rare conversations in the car as I taxi them around (my son gets his license in April), my weekdays and weekends full of basketball games, volleyball matches, and soccer tournaments, a messy house, dances, dates, school shopping, no food in the house, someone yelling “mom” all the time, loads of laundry, a house full of kids, and graduations of all sorts. I’m not ready but I know I will be ok when the time comes because your children are ALWAYS your children and you never stop being a parent.
The ending to this story is even hard for me to belive, but it’s true. My son started up the car to drive to the rec center after his seven word response to my mood, and on the radio was playing Trace Adkins’ You’re Going to Miss This. My son and I stared at each other for a moment. I said, “Did you plan that?” He said “No, but that is really weird.” A new attitude was born for me in that moment and I hear that song playing in my head when it counts the most. Take a listen and see if it hits home for you as well…
I’m missing my babies; the smell of their skin after a bath, the first smile and first giggle, their tiny hands and feet, watching my husband swaddle them and sleep with them on his chest, rocking them for hours, singing songs, and wet baby kisses. I’m missing my toddlers; cuddling in the bed, The Land Before Time movies, the first time they saw the ocean and tried to swim, big hugs, boo-boos that only mommy can fix, first friends, and bedtime stories. I’m missing my elementary-aged kids; kindergarten soccer, buttered noodles, music programs, class parties, the excitement of our trip to Disney World, believing in Santa Clause, trick or treating, the tooth fairy, endless hours at the pool and memorable birthday parties. I’m about to miss my middle school kids as my daughter will finish 8th grade this year; the budding athletes they became, the friends they became inseparable with, our mandatory summer vacations and family dinners, homework, travel soccer, and their budding independence. And I know what I’m getting ready to miss before I can even blink; rare conversations in the car as I taxi them around (my son gets his license in April), my weekdays and weekends full of basketball games, volleyball matches, and soccer tournaments, a messy house, dances, dates, school shopping, no food in the house, someone yelling “mom” all the time, loads of laundry, a house full of kids, and graduations of all sorts. I’m not ready but I know I will be ok when the time comes because your children are ALWAYS your children and you never stop being a parent.
The ending to this story is even hard for me to belive, but it’s true. My son started up the car to drive to the rec center after his seven word response to my mood, and on the radio was playing Trace Adkins’ You’re Going to Miss This. My son and I stared at each other for a moment. I said, “Did you plan that?” He said “No, but that is really weird.” A new attitude was born for me in that moment and I hear that song playing in my head when it counts the most. Take a listen and see if it hits home for you as well…
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