car key

And Just Like That, Here We Are


It was a long time ago, even in human years, when I took on the job of Mommyhood.

When a carefree life was taken over by worries.

Having dependents, no longer completely independent.

Life checking, standing over cribs.

Teething, sickness, rolling, crawling, sitting, standing…steps..WALKING…

Teaching and learning.

Talking. Non-stop.

Each little thing to someone else, huge to us, meticulously described and detailed in their book of life.

Every year, new milestones met.

Little ones becoming big ones.

Small steps becoming long strides.

Bending down to standing on tiptoes for a kiss.

Wanting parents constantly close to locking doors to keep them out.

Pushing.

Pulling.

Memories mixed with the occasional photo take the place of the written word, no pages left to write on in their baby book.

Babies still, if you look with your eyes closed, are now teenagers.

Different smells.

Different voices.

Different bodies.

Same child.

Wants different.

Needs never seem to be met.

Our parents long ago worries becoming our own.

Teachings hopefully not falling on deaf ears.

Molding, shaping…

Praying.

Keys are now being begged for.

Metal freedom.

Independence in the form of feet, then the shape of a bicycle, has now become a car.

Breath-holding until the door opens and safety is insured.

At least for one more night.

Babies, toddlers, small children gone. But not forgotten.

How did we get here? When did this happen?

Nothing can be done to slow it down so I try to enjoy it while it’s here.

Whatever the “it” is at that particular moment.

Rare laughter in-between brooding silence and sulking.

The OK’s instead of NO’s.

The “I love you” in-between the “I want”, “I need” or “I hate”.

Kisses and hugs in-between the slamming doors.

Each little thing to someone else, huge to us, meticulously detailed and described in my mind.

Happy family dinners.

Times when everyone is home at the same moment, actually enjoying being there…in that moment.

Teenagers slowly maturing.

Parents slowing maturing.

Yesterday seems like a long time ago when I first became a Mommy.

Yesterday, my daughter drove for the first time.

By herself.

There will be many more yesterdays, I’m sure.

I just hope I can learn to breathe in-between holding my breath.

Comments

comments



©Rock and Drool