The May Queen and her friends were ready to leave the boat I had been rocking to run off and play on another part of the playground. I headed back to the book I had left sitting on the bench. On the other end of the bench sat a mother with a baby in a front carrier. As I sat down she apologized.
"For what? It's a public bench."
"My shoulders needed a break," she said, rocking the swinging bench with one foot.
"I remember those days," I said, admiring her baby.
"I just said to my husband 'Look at that mom over there. READING. With four water bottles at her feet. She must have a whole crew here.'"
I laughed. "I only have one, so I invited the neighbors along so I could sit and read. I remember when my daughter was little watching the moms with magazines sitting on benches with a great deal of longing."
She laughed.
"But I was just watching your daughter there with your husband, as they bounced on that platform. The way they giggled. I miss that."
She nodded. Her baby fussed. Too much stillness. "Time to get moving" she said as she got up and bounced her way over to join her older child and her husband at the swing set.
And I went back to my book.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
19 comments:
i want to know more about this - was it tinged in sadness at all, it felt a bit sad reading it, for her somehow.
or you know, i oculd just be projecting.
It's a cycle with kids, isn't it. There are joys at each stage.
It's the truth isn't it. With each stage, something lost, something gained. Sigh.
Oh, it's so true. We finally achieve the stage we've been longing for, only to miss what we had before.
Oh this has to be such an ebb and flow of celebration and loss, this parenting thing. You handle it with such grace.
Just a slice of life that says so so much. Lovely - thanks for sharing.
There's a time for everything - the only problem is that sometimes when we're in the middle of it, we forget to enjoy it because we tend to look at the others ...
I'm in the stage of envying the parents with books and needed the reminder that this too will pass (too quickly).
It is bittersweet.
I appreciate the space and freedom I get in little teeny pockets (enough to show light at the end of the tunnel).
And I recall so well the fatigue, that drained feeling.
But something about those tiny bodies, when you are the whole world.
Yeah, bittersweet.
Julie
Using My Words
This is just...wonderfully real.
That just made me cry a little bit.
-HH
Thanks for reminding me to enjoy sitting here, still nursing this big 11 month boy. Because although it frustrates me sometimes I will sorely miss it when it's over.
That's a perfect title for your post! I am mostly content with my boys being older and more independant. But there are days when I miss babies.
Beautifully done. You've captured the moment and the feelings perfectly.
And then when those baby days are gone, they're just vanished. Never to return. It's a funny thing to miss, but oh, I do.
I needed this tonight. So much stress, so much I'm trying to get done and so many interruptions. I need to take a breath. Thank you.
I am feeling a bit melancholic for those baby days.
For those very little people days.
sigh. I need a puppy I think.
It never ceases to amaze what each stage brings. :)
Ah, another reminder (which I seem to need frequently these days) to just enjoy the moment we're in.
Beautiful.
Post a Comment