Three days. Each day I was awoken by something unexpected. Day one: Mr.T is shining his little blue LED flashlight into my eyeballs, asking if I can see his light. No, I can’t. I’m blind, thank you very much. I ask him to turn off his flashlight and go get dressed. I thought I would buy myself another half hour. He strongly dislikes getting dressed. A few moments later (or at least I think it was a few moments) he is again blinding me with his little LED and saying, ” Mom. Get up! I got dressed like you asked me to. You’re proud of me? LOOK mom!” I get up. Halfway through the day, I discover he is commando. Nice.
Day Two: Mr.T is sitting crossed legged on my bed, blowing into a Thomas the Train CHOOO CHOOO horn, directly in my face. Eventually I snatch it out of his little clammy grasp and hide it under my pillow. He doesn’t get out of pj’s today, but remembers to ask me if I heard him making train noises. My little prince, how could I forget?
Day Three: I am dreaming I am in a construction site. The only tool I can hear is a drill. I open my eyes as the sound of the drill is gradually making its way over to my head. Mr.T is holding his plastic blue kiddie drill near my head. Does he love me? I tell him to stop, it’s just 6 am.JUST. He says ok and wanders off to play in his room for a little while as Daddy gets up. Later, I discover every toy, piece of clothing and part of our library have made their way into his room in a chaotic fashion.
Day Four: I was startled awake today by these surprising words, “MOM! My bug is on your pillow and I think he died, he stopped crawling around!” Really? Seriously? My little man had captured a pill bug the day before, he spent hours playing with it. He brought it into the house, put it in his space ship and was mortified as he came down the stairs because he had lost him in his room. I told him it was imperative to find this bug. He searched his bedroom floor with a miniature magnifying glass. About twenty minutes later, he had come down the stairs with the bug. He wanted it to eat dinner with us. No. He wanted it to sleep with him. No. Somehow he made his way down in the morning and grabbed the little bugger from his plastic container, and now it was having a sleepover on my pillow. I jolted out of bed, asked him to put it away and never are any bugs allowed in any of our beds. Ever. Even though I don’t mind them, they are not allowed to sleep with us. He put the bug away. A few minutes later I dozed off in and out of sleep as I listened to him playing with green army guys next to my bed. His second attempt to get me out of my very comfortable bed was to tell me he pulled the arms of his guys and needed me to fix them. I did. Kissed his head and asked again where the bug was.
I know in a few years I will try to squeeze these memories out from their dormant state so I can have just another minute with my little boys. Moments are precious, yet every time I tell myself, I will remember this moment forever, I know little details slip away as the time goes by. I hope I remember how my youngest little prince says, “Motorcycle” for the rest of my life, of how he says CHEESE for anything that looks like a camera. I hope I remember how funny Mr.T is, and how he always says, “I love You Mom” at random moments. I hope I remember how my boys played with a bag of potatoes for an hour, rolling them down makeshift slides in the living room. I hope that I forever remember how Mr.T says California is in his cheese and not calcium. I hope my memory does justice to the feeling of elation, awe and being humbled when my boys entered this world.
As parents, we strive so hard to teach our children how to live healthy, full and happy lives. We want them to be happy, truly happy and make decisions based on raw emotion and common sense. We want them to be strong, independent, responsible adults who live great lives. Our wants for our children can supersede what they need, and what we need. Sometimes, all we need is just a little more time with the tiny wonders who make our lives so complete, and if that means building memories, so they can have memories too, then I am all in.
Here’s to waking up each day to something new, and here’s to making memories for our kids and for those moments that we just wanted a little more time.
Thanks Mr.T and Little A for constantly rearranging my perspective. I’ve always needed you.