Betsy Shaw
posted in Mom Stories
Yesterday was our secret* anniversary. Ian and I have been married for 16 years. I told Esther that fact and she said “Wait… but I’m only 10.”
I love that she can’t fathom the lives of her parents before she existed in this world. Sometimes I can’t either. Without her here, did we exist? I can’t really remember. I wonder what we did with our time, what we talked about, what we chose to worry about. It all seems so far away yet 16 years really isn’t that long, is it.
I do remember, I’ve said this before, shopping with only a basket, rather than a cart, and wasting time at the supermarket in front of the magazine rack. Could you imagine, today, in the midst of al your running around, stopping to lazily flip through magazines without the slightest feeling as if you needed to be somewhere else, like ten minutes ago? I can’t.
I also remember having far more disposable income. Shopping for bedding, dishes, home improvement stuff, as if we were big kids fixing up a fort. And going out to dinner then to a play. Or worrying about our social life as a couple: Whatever we would do on Saturday night?
It all seems so laughable to me now. So trivial. The saying “Life is what happens while you’re doing other things” has never been so clear to me as it is right now.
Even though Esther may still think the universe revolves around her, she is aware of the passing of time. She knows ones time as a child, a truly dependent, carefree, I’ve got every excuse in the world why I can’t remember where my brand new shoes are kid, is limited.
She apparently sighed and confessed to Isla the other day that she wanted to be a kid forever. Then she rushed downstairs to tell me Isla’s response:
“I know, Esther,” Isla said, her still babyish accent belying her earnestness, “I bet you don’t want to grow up and get a bloody bottom.”
While there’s far more to growing up than getting a “bloody bottom,” I’m astounded that Isla is so tuned in to some of the more tumultuous rites of passage of womanhood. And is she truly aware that her big sister is swaying precariously right on the cusp of some major changes, or was that bloody bottom comment simply a good guess?
Sometimes I fear I share too much of life’s worries with my children. Being alone with them for all that time when Ian was kept away from us made this hard to avoid. When you are alone together with someone long enough, even if those someones are kids, you can’t help but let your real self out. Well, I can’t.
While I don’t recall a specific incident, I am pretty sure I have said, “Whatever you do, don’t grow up unless you mean it” to those kids more than once.
But I’m fairly sure I also qualified it with “Being a grownup is not something you want to rush into. Believe me, it can wait. Once you get here, you’ll wonder what your rush was.”
Sometimes I think I should just shut my mouth before I make my kids afraid to grow up and be women. Other times, I think they should know, they need to know. How else will they be prepared?
And when my Isla tells me “don’t worry” or asks me “are you okay?” sometimes as if she is the parent and I am the child, I get flashes of shame, a feeling that I’m emoting too much in front of my children, putting too much of a burden on them. But then I feel proud that I’ve got an intuitive kid, one that knows exactly when to say
“Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”
And the fact that Ian and I were too tried to do more than verbally acknowledge our anniversary last night is okay too. There’s always the next one.
***We got married twice in two months. The first time was at the Town Hall on a Friday afternoon in July, wearing shorts and T-shirts. The second time was more traditionally ceremonious.
What I really meant to write about today, but couldn’t seem to verbalize, ended up over here at Numbmum.com.
Read more from source:“babycenter-com-baby”
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