It seems that the past few months have been nothing short of
barely controlled chaos. From morning to night, it's a race from point A to
point B,C,D...well you get the picture. Some days seem to not even have the
time to exist before they're over.
Today was shaping up to be one of those days. A day that was blurry from beginning to end. After feeding the rug rats, it was time to shower them off and get them bedded down for the night. Most days, an evening full of the kids going crazy tests what little patience I have and by the time we get them laid down my brain is almost fried. For some reason though, this evening was different. They didn't stress me out too much so when we got them in the tub it was an enjoyable event for everyone involved. Once we got the kids washed off, we proceeded to get them out of the tub. My son turned and looked at me with his cool blue eyes and said "Carry me dad."
This has kinda been a tradition since he entered into this world. After bath time, I wrap him up in a towel and carry him to his room to get his pj's on and lay him down for the night. Yeah...it doesn't seem like much of a tradition but parents live for those little moments that their kids aren't driving them totally insane. Those little moments that help you get up in the morning to face another day.
Back to my son. He's four now and quickly going on five. He's changed so much this year and has passed up toddlerhood in the fast lane. He likes Tom and Jerry now instead of baby Einstein (which I can't blame him one bit for), he plays with action figures instead of stuffed animals and I've even noticed a little hair on his legs. Safe to say that when he asked me to carry him to his room; it's not as easy as when he was two and I could scoop him up like a rag doll.
Most nights it's hard enough to find the strength to drag myself into bed much less do anything else but tonight was different. Yeah...I was tired but when he asked me to carry him I didn't think about how tired I was or anything like that. The thought that passed before me was "I better do this while I still can". It was a small but intensely bittersweet moment.
There's nothing like your child asking you to do something you love to do for them. It warms even the coldest of hearts. On the other hand, it also forced me to face the fact that he is growing up at a staggering pace. Moreover, I've become hyper aware of how time is quietly turning against me and how limited the moments really are that I have to share with my children.
...Sometimes it's hard counting the carries until you can't anymore.
Today was shaping up to be one of those days. A day that was blurry from beginning to end. After feeding the rug rats, it was time to shower them off and get them bedded down for the night. Most days, an evening full of the kids going crazy tests what little patience I have and by the time we get them laid down my brain is almost fried. For some reason though, this evening was different. They didn't stress me out too much so when we got them in the tub it was an enjoyable event for everyone involved. Once we got the kids washed off, we proceeded to get them out of the tub. My son turned and looked at me with his cool blue eyes and said "Carry me dad."
This has kinda been a tradition since he entered into this world. After bath time, I wrap him up in a towel and carry him to his room to get his pj's on and lay him down for the night. Yeah...it doesn't seem like much of a tradition but parents live for those little moments that their kids aren't driving them totally insane. Those little moments that help you get up in the morning to face another day.
Back to my son. He's four now and quickly going on five. He's changed so much this year and has passed up toddlerhood in the fast lane. He likes Tom and Jerry now instead of baby Einstein (which I can't blame him one bit for), he plays with action figures instead of stuffed animals and I've even noticed a little hair on his legs. Safe to say that when he asked me to carry him to his room; it's not as easy as when he was two and I could scoop him up like a rag doll.
Most nights it's hard enough to find the strength to drag myself into bed much less do anything else but tonight was different. Yeah...I was tired but when he asked me to carry him I didn't think about how tired I was or anything like that. The thought that passed before me was "I better do this while I still can". It was a small but intensely bittersweet moment.
There's nothing like your child asking you to do something you love to do for them. It warms even the coldest of hearts. On the other hand, it also forced me to face the fact that he is growing up at a staggering pace. Moreover, I've become hyper aware of how time is quietly turning against me and how limited the moments really are that I have to share with my children.
...Sometimes it's hard counting the carries until you can't anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment