Friday night is usually movie night at our house, especially when Jamie is gone. The kids get excited to pop popcorn, stay up a little later, and pick a movie On Demand. I like a good excuse for pizza and eating in front of the TV. This past Friday's pick was Meet the Robinsons, a movie we have seen before, but it's been awhile, and it was one of my favorite kids' movie's in a long time. I started it at about 7, and while the kids watched, I was busy with the pizza, the dishwasher, sorting mail, feeding the baby, changing a diaper, and then making popcorn. By the time I sat down with them on the couch to watch it, it was 2/3rds done.
I enjoyed what was left nonetheless, and when it ended, Jimmy got up to dance to the credits, which is starting to become a pattern. The song was Little Wonders by Rob Thomas. I scooped up Mary and began to dance with her, and as she smiled in my face while I twirled around with her, a lump rose in my throat, and all at once I got weepy. Their faces when I dance with them, their happiness and simple joy at my attention, at playing in the music together--God, it gets me every time!
I had to put down Mary to pick up Jimmy and dance with him, too, and as I hiked his giraffe legs up to straddle my hip, I wondered how much longer I'll be able to pick him up like this, for how much longer will he let me hold him and dance and lay his head on my shoulder happily? Oh, my mom-heart aches to think of how fast these days will fly by, and I want to freeze frame them, capture them in my memory perfectly, never, ever forget how it feels to bear their whole body in my arms.
Course, Rob Thomas doesn't help the drama, singing "Time falls away, but these small hours, these little wonders still remain." I challenge any mom to listen to that song, and think about the last time you danced with your child, and not get a little choked up.
When I think of time marching on, and how much these "small" hours will mean to me, and to them, once they are past . . . I feel so much . . . weight. Responsibilty. Such a heavy obligation, to make the most of every hour. To not wish time away while their Dad is deployed, while I am struggling with potty training, while I am trying to clean, cook dinner, and get them to bed so I can relax.
I remember a time after Jimmy was born, when I felt like our family had not really started yet. We were a family of three, but I still had a feeling that the real child-raising years, the days of siblings and sitting around the dinner table and family vacations, were still way ahead of us. We always wanted a big family, and both come from good sized families, so I guess I still looked to the future, when the chaos of kids reign in the house. Well, I can say with conviction we are there now. These are the glory days, they will be what my kids will remember as the good old days. When they say things like, "when I was a kid" or "my family would always" or "my mom used to," these are the times they will be talking about.
I wish I had let the dishes and mail wait, and sat down with them a little sooner.
All of my regret will wash away somehow,
but I cannot forget the way I feel right now,
In these small hours, these twists and turns of fate.
