These are the days I will reflect on when I’m old.
These are the days I will wish I had back.
This time when it was just us, our small little family, waiting for another a half a world away.
My four-year old bundle of sweet chaos, with sticky fingers that touch everything.
A dirt-lover who scoops it up by the fistful, rubs it all over his bare belly, and declares, “I’m the sandman, Mommy!”
An adventurer with an imagination as tall as the sky, pointing at the cute old couple walking down the sidewalk and exclaiming very, very loudly, “Look! It’s two T-Rexes! Run before they eat us!”
My four-eyed monster with crooked, smudged glasses that slide down his nose so it is perpetually scrunched.
My shameless exhibitionist, who not only pees in our backyard, but our neighbor’s too. Seriously. Boys.
A young Picasso, who hasn’t quite figured out that marking up our walls with Sharpie and crayon does not make Mommy happy.
A fearless daredevil, who jumps from heights he should not jump from and is never ever without scrapped knees or bruised shins.
My little man, who wants to know when we get to put the heart on our Adoption Map so we can bring home his brother and sister. (He thinks he’s getting both.)
The giggles and the after-dinner wrestling matches in our living room. The ones I think are far too rough, but Daddy knows his boy’s love language best.
He is the Hulk who will smash you.
The puppy who will nuzzle you.
The Veliciraptor who will hunt you.
The tornado who can destroy an entire room in 2 seconds flat.
“Will you cuddle with me, Mommy?” he asks before bedtime.
I wish I could say my answer was always yes.
Because someday, he will stop asking.
And I will want to go back to these days.
When he was four and crazy and wild and innocent and so unbelievably, unintentionally funny.
I will want to crawl into his bed and listen as he talks us both to sleep.
Let’s Talk: What days do you wish you could go back to?
Join the Wishing on Willows Scavenger Hunt for a chance to win a bundle of FREE books from my publisher. All you have to do is find Wishing on Willows on a shelf in a store (if you’re in Walmart, you might just find it there), snap a picture, and post on your blog (email me the link), Facebook (tag me in the picture), or Twitter (tag me in the tweet), and you’re entered to win!
Are you on Twitter? Join the #WillowTalk Twitter Event. The last week of April, tweet a review or tweet your favorite lines from Wishing on Willows, make sure to use the #WillowTalk hashtag, and you could win three books from my publisher, plus a $5 gift card to Starbucks. There will be 25 winners! Please RSVP here!
I’m SO in that stage of “back then”. It’s heart breaking to know I will never experience Gabby and Holly’s 3 year self, or their 8 year old self and I think to Zoe’s baby years also! So great that you are aware of this. That awareness will enable you to enjoy these days much more!
I so know these feelings. With an 18 month old it feels like every day is a new adventure, new word, new discovery. Right now as I sit here typing this I can hear him in his bed next door chatting away to his “Bubba” and all I want to do is go in and get him up and play! (I have done this before, while fun at the time, I paid for it with a very cranky toddler the next morning!)
i think this exact thought every night when maddy asks to snuggle. i wish i wanted to every night. i told her that she won’t want me to forever, and this is a future she can’t imagine. i even recorded her saying, “I’ll always want to snuggle with you, Mommy,” on my iPhone so that i can listen to proof that these days did indeed exist. sigh. i totally understand your sentiments.
If ever a blog post pulled my heartstrings… thanks for the reminder to savor, Katie. This was perfect.
Aww.. Katie.. this just melts me. Beautiful. Long live your family! 🙂
A brother and a sister all in one trip would be so cool! Love you, dear one. Kathleen ~ Lane Hill House
Love this! Especially the shameless exhibitionist quip… yes we deal with that too! Actually, my kids would do well in a nudist colony. We did the naked potty training thing at home and now whenever we walk in the door they both start stripping down. We keep the shades drawn. 🙂
beautiful thoughts today, Katie!
Have you read ‘Love You Forever’ by Robert Munsch? If not, you gotta get it. You nearly described the entire book.
LOVE it, Katie. This post made me want to cuddle with my boys right now:)
Shoot. Shouldn’t have read this at work! I’m tearing up…this is going to be such a cool thing for Brogan to read someday. He’s a very lucky little man to have you as a mom!
Wise women used to stop me in the supermarket, admire our daughter, and tell me to enjoy those days because they’d be gone before I knew It. As I wheeled around a cart with a tantrum-throwing three-year-old, savoring those early days wasn’t always easy, but I did my best to heed that well-meaning counsel.
These days Empty Nester me is sorely tempted to stop frazzled young mothers and give the same advice. Our “little girl” will graduate in June, and she’ll be heading off to France in the fall to work as a teacher’s assistant in the French school system. What will help me through that separation is the supply of memories I’ve stored: walking to town with an imaginative child who helped me name every section of the trail, playing board games before school as a reward for getting ready quickly, helping her create “snuggle cuddle nests” in which to read, with her best pal, Raggedy Annie, at her side.
I’m so glad you’re able to be home with your little guy and make memories, Katie. And one day–hopefully soon–you’ll be making even more with your new family member. You won’t regret these days. You’ll be so thankful you chose to embrace them.
OK, now that I’ve gone all seasoned-old-lady on you, I’ll step off my soapbox. 🙂
Love that soapbox moment, Keli! It didn’t feel like a soapbox moment at all – just a whole lot of heartfelt wisdom from a woman who knows!
Honestly? I don’t want to go back.
At all.
LOL
BUT if I could change the way I responded to somethings in the past, I would but if I had the chance to actually go back I wouldn’t because time travel is just plain scary lol thank God it is not and never will be real.
I loved this post, Katie! So sweet. I’m enjoying the days right now, but I loved age 3 for both of my kids. So cute and funny!
What a sweet description! You always use such beautiful language to describe the things dear to you, Katie. You’ve got a gift!
I wish I could go back to the time when I had fewer responsibilities. Seriously. I miss spring and summer break like crazy!! 😛
You are so wise to enjoy the time you have with your son, Katie! I love the moments I get to spend with my children now, but still miss the yesteryears greatly. Treasure them, they fly.
Oh this is just the sweetest post ever. And I love that photo!
Some days I sometimes want to go back to–my months in London. It was just so adventurous and faith-growing and, well, fun. Seriously, so much fun. 🙂
I guess I’m stuck somewhere between you and Jill.
I’m embracing all the wonders of now — and occasionally missing the “back then.”
Ha, well…..my now is probably your and Jill’s “back then”, if that makes any sense. Someday, I know I’m going to miss these days when Brogan is at home and getting in to constant mischief!
Aww, what a touching tribute to your sweet Brogan!
It’s funny, but I don’t want to go back–I’m enjoying right now so much. And I always do, no matter what age they are.
If I went back to 4, I would have missed my son get to be the starting pitcher at his first game (last night!), or I would miss my daughter’s fabulous fashion sense (she can put an outfit together with the best of them). I’d miss the tears over a disqualified race at track, the challenges of getting someone who won’t be named to try harder at math.
I guess each day brings something new, something we didn’t have the day before. 🙂
Awww, this brought back SO many memories. But Katie, fear not, they NEVER stop needing you, even where they’re 6’2 and try to act like they’ve got it all together. Trust me, there will be moments that no one else will see, meant for you alone.
I love your sweet descriptions of your little man