-
Eight
Bug is turning eight tomorrow. EIGHT! I can’t believe it myself. She has been everything I ever wanted in a child. More than I ever expected. She is every joy I ever dreamed of and more! She’s such an easy and good kid, I don’t know how I got so lucky. I’m waiting for her to turn into a teenager and suddenly become a holy terror and make up for how pleasant she’s been all these years.
Sure, she’s gone through a few whiney stages and then there was that one year that she tested out lying but lately I can’t complain about anything. I’m getting off easy in the mothering department. From age four to now she has been a dream child. She’s so much quieter than most kids. She doesn’t bounce off the walls or shout or bicker. She’s thoughtful and smart. She never needs help with her homework. All I need to do is sit her down and provide her with quiet and a snack and just does her work without complaint. She rarely talks back to me. She stops when I tell her to stop playing that silly cups song she’s so attached to. She reads and plays and hardly makes a mess. What kind of kid doesn’t make a mess when they play? She gets excited and will jabber on like a normal girl but she’s just such an easy child. I think God knew what I could handle and gave me an extra special care package for delicate mothers.
I’m holding onto that care package with all my might. I know it’s going to vanish before I’m ready. Life is going by so fast. It’s easy for me to get caught up in my work and friendships and spread myself thin. I’m guilty of that. I’m a very social person and I love my job. We have a very full life. Everyday we are doing something new and sometimes it seems like I’m just fitting her into the leftover space in my schedule. I don’t want that for her. I know I felt that way with my parents busy lives and I resented it. But here I am doing the same thing.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing. I grew up to be a pretty motivated adult and maybe I learned it from them. I don’t know…
All I know is that the other day I was walking behind her at school drop off and admiring her healthy little behind thinking, she’s got her mother’s back side, poor kid. She’s not a little toddler anymore. I am not the mother of a little kid anymore. She’s growing up and she’s beautiful. I just want to treasure every moment before it’s gone forever.