A few weeks ago, I was walking by my 7-year-old Beatrice’s bedroom and noticed she had tucked two of her favorite stuffed animals in bed. It was the sweetest thing.
Bea is very childlike and imaginative and tends to do stuff like this, but for some reason this act of love stopped me in my tracks. I was so moved that I had to walk over to Winnie the Pooh and the hand-sewn rabbit creature fashioned by Grandma Cheryl to take a photo. I wanted to remember this special moment forever.
“I don’t ever want this to end,” I thought to myself. I want Bea to tuck in her stuffies for the rest of her life. I want her to stay 7 forever. Most of all, it made me appreciate her sweet and innocent spirit. I know it’s cliché, but time is moving too fast and it makes me want to hold on to this wonderful and whimsical time for as long as I can. Or at least plant it in a file folder deep in the recesses of my brain so I can remember it when things might not be so sweet and beautiful. My parents said these years would go fast, and they were right. I recently saw a picture of Bea as a baby eating from her high chair, and I barely remember that. I don’t want to be a prisoner of the moment. I want to savor and remember it all.
Easier said than done, I know.
Ella, my 10-year-old, soon to be 11, has become so independent and mature and opinionated as of late. It’s a different sense of pride I get from watching her ease into the pre-teen years. However, I long for the days when she would cuddle up in our bed and just snuggle and laugh and let us envelop her with the deep love that we have for our first-born child. After all, it was just me, Annie, and Ella for more than three years. They were great years. Those days aren’t completely gone, but as I watch her become a young lady, I’m more and more apt to hold on a little bit tighter.
I guess what I’m saying is that parenting has many seasons. Some are stressful while others are free-flowing and easy. Some are beautiful while others are overwhelming. My family lives in between two families who have very young children, and it’s funny to watch them do the things that we did. Sometimes you just have to laugh and reflect on the real early years. Thankfully, we are in a season where our children are pretty self-contained and don’t need us every waking moment. My neighbors will get there one day, too, and then they’ll be sad like I am about how it all went too fast.
For now, I’ll enjoy watching Beatrice try to entice and capture a fairy in her room. She believes it’ll happen. Why can’t I?
Jeff Hulett is a freelance writer, musician, and PR consultant in Memphis. He lives in the Vollintine Evergreen neighborhood with his wife Annie, two girls Ella and Beatrice, and dog Chalupa.