Treasure Every Moment

Okay, this blog is mostly for parents... so if you aren't one, feel free to go about your day without reading. You might be bored. (Though the concept I seek to express fits many other phases of life in general, so it's up to you.) :)

"Treasure every moment" is something I heard constantly as a young parent. I could be on line at the grocery store checkout with a tantrum-tastic toddler and a cranky newborn, hair askew in five different directions, skirt stuck in the waistband of my panties and mismatched shoes and inevitably some woman would approach me, sweetly smile at my screaming spawnlings and say, "Treasure every moment, dear. It goes by so quickly."

At the time, my reactions varied, but mostly I wanted to punch these women in the face and cry, "How can I treasure every moment? Can't you see I'm about to die of exhaustion and lack of sleep?! My hair is oily, my complexion shot and I haven't had a pedicure since my last trimester!!" Clearly, these women had no clue what I was enduring, weaning two babies still in diapers. They probably had nannies and housekeepers and personal chefs, which is why they were able to smile so sincerely, right?

Fast forward to two weeks ago as the kids started their Fall Break from school.

On one particular morning, the kids were getting up to go out with Jason and my still-sleepy daughter threw her cover-up into my hands. I promptly prepped it and slid it over her head... pausing to realize that it had been years since I had dressed my baby girl. Relative ages since I had spooned food into their mouths or played 'peek-a-boo'.

Last night, as my daughter and I were bonding over music - reminiscing about our 'mix CDs' from one of our many summers in Sedona, I started to think about the many phases of our lives together. From clothes to school to food to milestones to Anna Nalick's 'Breathe' and Tracy Bonham's 'Mother Mother'... I sometimes wish I had found my inner peace at a younger age, enabling me to truly 'treasure every moment' while it was actually happening.

The kids had a phobia of public restrooms when they were young because the doors were always heavy and locks were different. My daughter had once been locked into a bathroom at Oregano's. My son (at a fancy family-celebration at Melting Pot) took off his shoe and propped open the door of the men's room because it was heavy and he didn't think he could open it again without help. That too, was a temporary phase.

My kids are leaving today for Disneyland with their Aunt and Grandpa and two of their cousins. They've taken trips out of state before... road trips in-state, out of state, plane rides to Oregon and New York, etc. But after spending the past two weeks together (and me on a psuedo-break where I wasn't running to rehearsals every afternoon) their departure seems abrupt.

Last night, after dropping them off at their grandma's house, I was feeling particularly nostalgic. As I stopped to grab a couple of items at the store, I found myself eyeballing stylish diaper bags (I swore I could smell the combination of baby power and Desitin) and reminiscing about those crazy times when the only way to get my son to sleep was to put him in his swinging bassinet in front of a speaker and play the soundtrack to 'Cool Runnings'. (He loved the steel drums, I guess.) Or how much my daughter loved huge dill pickles when she was teething.

I was still in this fairy-land of times long gone when I noticed the young woman in front of me fumbling through a large bag for her wallet while balancing a screaming infant on her hip. We made eye contact and I sympathetically smiled and asked if she needed help. She managed to juggle her payment and collect her bags, giving me a grateful smile (presumably for caring or at least not losing patience).
I couldn't help myself, so I waited until she was still within earshot, but out of punching distance before I sweetly said, "Treasure every moment."

It does go by all too quickly.