Today was a really good day.
I've been thinking about cuddling lately. Specifically, cuddling my children. We're a pretty snuggly bunch. I'm not often concerned about making sure the small people have enough affection, because it feels like I'm always kissing the tops of their heads and telling them I love them. But a few days ago I was watching the boys play and I had the thought pop into my head, "I wonder how much longer Peter will let me hold his hand while we walk? Or give him hugs in public? Or ask me to come play trains with him? Or spend time with him at all?" He's only four and still loves these things, but the fleeting nature of time suddenly seemed very real.
Phoebe gets lots of snuggling time since it's integral to her feeding process. And she's a baby, so I can't help wanting to hold her as much as physically possible. I cuddle with Cooper while I read and sing to him before nap time everyday, not to mention that he will often come and give me a hug and a kiss without any prompting. Peter though, he's been left out lately.
That same day that I saw a mental picture of Peter as a teenager who refuses to hug his mother, I prayed that I would be able to make time to spend with each child, time to hold them and listen to them and just be close.
Today I was able to have time like that with each one of them, one-on-one. Phoebe had amazingly long naps (I'm not sure why, but I'm oh-so thankful for it). This meant that I spent a little longer with Cooper during our pre-nap routine. And then I sat with Peter while the other two were sleeping. I also made a conscious effort to go and play with them or see what they were building or drawing or doing whenever they asked. I have a bad case of the just-a-minutes. "I'll be there in just a minute, Peter." "Yes Cooper, just let me finish this first." Today, I paused sweeping the breakfast crumbs, loading the dishwasher, gathering trash. I went in and spent time with the boys as they played.
I need to figure out a way to store these moments, like money in a bank, putting them away now so that later, when they won't sit next to me with their head on my shoulder, I can withdraw my deposits. Something like saving for a rainy day I suppose.
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3 comments:
When Paige was a very strong-willed two-year-old, I had a vision of her being one of those teen-age girl that sneak out to go to forbidden activities. I too prayed about that. The answer I got was to strengthen my relationship with her then so it wouldn't be a problem later. Paige was not (is not) always very verbal, but she liked to sit on my lap. So if Paige got more lap time than any other child, it was for two reasons: 1) No other child enjoyed it and sought it out as much as she seemed to. 2) I was banking it against those teenage years. As it turned out, her teenage years were not rebellious. Perhaps my vision of fear was not justified. Or perhaps that future was averted by all that lap time. She still likes to sit with her head on my shoulder. The other evening we were waiting for a prescription at Walmart. She put her head on my shoulder. After a time, I asked if she was tired or whether we were having a wordless conversation. Here answer was, "Some of each."
I once read an article by a man who, for his New Year's resolution, wrote on a piece of paper something he was grateful for that day. He then put them in a shoebox. After three or four months, he went back and read through what he had written. He said it was wonderful, because he had forgotten about many of the things he had written, but they all came back when re-read.
Maybe you could do something similar. Write down (or maybe for you, type) something cute or funny or sweet or enlightening or precious that your kids do or say. Maybe one thing for each child or one that includes them all or just one a day. Then, on days that they're being naughty, you can re-read your notes to yourself and remember how good things can be. Then, you'd also have a "bank," like you were talking about.
Well said. I feel the same way. I actually caught myself crying just the other day when I thought about my boys being teenagers and not wanting to be with me all the time. I dread the day and only hope that I love them enough now that they'll always remember and want to be close.
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