Don't grow up too soon, okay?
That's the thought that kept going through my mind as we made our way three towns over and to the left this morning. A party in honor of The World Cup was getting underway and we had baked a pie for the occasion. All my happy thoughts of drinking beer and eating thick slices of stawberry rhubarb vanished as soon as the tiny voice strapped into the car seat behind me started to prattle off excitely about a party that she was invited to attend, too.
"OK, guys. I'm shinking of sumpting ... ah. Nevermind."
"Oh, look. Amnials."
"Monkeys? in the Farmie? I don't shink so, daddy. ... O-e-O-i-U."
It was all so amazing to me. Just a few months ago I wondered if she'd EVER speak more than the first syllable of any word. This constantly flowing stream of thought was pouring out faster than I could commit them to memory.
Until she said this:
"Schwan? Who else is doing to be there at the PAR-TEE?"
I shivered. We've been teaching her to say our names, her name, and the name of the town we live in (you know, just in case she needs to go out for a six-pack one day and gets too drunk to find her way back) but I never expected her to call me anything other than Mama, Mommy, Ma or even the person-i-live-with-who-is-so-stupid-i-don't-know-how-she-finds-her-car-in-the-parking-lot (that last one I expect will come out in about 14 years or so).
When she skipped upstairs with the "big" girls at the party, making bracelets and looking at all sorts of pre-teen treasures with their indulgence, I felt the toddler slip away from me a little.
I know I call her a "teenager," especially when she asks for "hot milk" and "fie mo minues" before I pluck her out of bed and plop her at the breakfast table, but I really wish time would slow down a bit ... just enough for me to catch up.
It all reminds me of one of my FAVORITE stranger-mommy moment: A woman at an outdoor shopping plaza, trying to get her spirited toddler to slow down. I was nowhere near becoming a mom back then, but, like the rest of the onlooking judges, I could plainly see her little bumpkin was headed for a doosie of a fall.
The mom just smiled and said: "Honey, if you slow down you'll see more things."
Even though I want to reach out and grab my little bumpkin, and keep her from falling into this trap of growing up, I can't. I just have to try and point out some of the things she'll miss when she's not looking.
4 comments:
That's a great anecdote and I love that it stuck with you.
And world cup plus pie? Interesting. I might have said Guiness.
I would have liked Guiness, too. Although they were more the bloody mary types. ... Although they were trying to slip Bailey's into my coffee.
There is something so special and so sad about watching our children grow up. When I was a kid it felt like time moved so slowly, but now as adult watching our Okapis, time moves way too fast. The joy and pride in their successes is tempered by the notion that things they used to do or used to say are gone forever. I love being there to see it and it pains me every time.
That was a lovely piece.
Schwan, I think I need to read your blog more often. It makes me smile. :)
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