Yesterday, in the same day, I was happy and sad.
I think that happens to many of us women. Our emotions are all over the place sometimes. A rollercoaster.
Earlier in the day I held my baby nephew and remembered things about my own girls' infancies. The good and the bad. It was bittersweet. Holding my nephew, my godson, is a precious, precious gift. And yet sometimes it can hurt. I can't turn back time, ever, and hold my own babies again. I can't ever hold the one I lost. I think I will feel this way until the day I die...loving where I am in the moment, but conscious that another moment will never come again.
I just lost you. I'm a nutjob.
Anyway, after school the girls had dental check ups. It went so great! As I sat by myself in the waiting room I flash-backed to earlier checkups with Taylor, when I had to basically restrain her as she laid on top of me for the five minutes it took the dentist to check her mouth.
She was always stronger than me even as a young babe.
So I felt content. I thought to myself, "see self, it's not so bad having older kids."
Then we went to Chick Fil A, as is our tradition after dental appointments. What...you don't let your kids eat crap after getting their teeth cleaned?
It was crowded with other bad mamas (that is a JOKE) and the playroom was full. All of a sudden I realized Bailey was really too big to go in there. Probably Taylor too. We went back to wash our hands first and I prepped the girls. See, Bailey is really a youthful child. She would gladly still play in the CFA playroom. She is in no rush to grow up and in fact, gets sad about it. I told them they are big girls, probably too big for that playroom. Bailey said it was just like the Shop Rite playroom, when you get big you can't go in there but she wishes she could. Taylor just listened. Then we checked their height on the playroom door, Tate was a smidge under but Bailey was SO over the limit. She took it in stride. My heart burst with sadness that this part of our little life was over, and also pride over my girls standing there, hugging each other, because Taylor said then she wouldn't play either. They walked, arms around each other, to a nearby table and we decided on what to get for dinner.
So I had this weird all-over-the-place kind of thing going on. For years when the girls were little we would come to CFA to meet friends...the kids would play the moms would talk and laugh, interrupted every other minute by our children needing our help. I look at those tables that are outside the playroom and I can just see it. All those memories. They are not very important memories in the scheme of things, but it was just part of our stay-at-home little life we had for awhile. Me and the girls. Going to the library, Barnes and Noble and Borders story times, Mommy and Me swim, going to the playground and to friends houses. I see these memories all the time, and it's bittersweet. I drive by a playground that's "too little" so we don't go there anymore and I get a lump in my throat. I remember packing lunches and sitting under the tree. I remember swinging Taylor on my lap and I remember Bailey "catching" her sister come down the slide.
I cry just writing this. I'm a mess, people. So you think I haven't forgotten all the tough moments of having littles, I really haven't. I remember spending long amounts of time with Taylor in bathrooms because she couldn't talk all the *whatever* of wherever we were. I remember pawning Bailey off to other moms at the library story time bc Taylor didn't like it and I had to chase her around the library, the whole time worried that Bailey would think Taylor got more attention than she did, and resentful I couldn't be like all the other moms with both kids on my lap acting normal. I remember the many, many times we couldn't go out to these places because either Bailey was so constipated she wouldn't get off the couch, her little toes curled in distress, or because Taylor was just too not-into-it. I remember that. But it doesn't matter. All the good, all the fun, all the precious, that's what matters to me now. The bad just makes it that much sweeter, because we got through it. (We're still getting through it, note to self. Girls aren't grown yet!) I've written about this topic before, and I will again, because for some reason, this kids-growing-up-and-it-feels-growing-away thing really affects me.
But you know what - I really was so proud of my big girls. Because they're growing up they handled it so well. And they were rewarded, because after they ate, the playroom was empty and they played for a few minutes. Taylor went first, and Bailey and I sat at the table together. Bailey mentioned a few things about growing older that is good.
I told her the best is yet to come, even if maybe I don't totally believe it.