Mixed feelings. . .

It's the beginning of an end of an era. First the boy did it and moved on. Now the girl is. For the most part, Megan still falls back on baby-ized names for us - I'm Mama. Bruce is Dada. Grandma is often Mama too because the Ga isn't as easily said I suppose. Logan was the same way. Grandma went without a name of her own for quite some time the first kid around.

Lately, though, Megan has been dropping in a new name or two. It's not constant. She'll say it and then the next time through she'll change it back. Yet I've heard it. Others have head it. She's starting to call me Mommy.

Moments ago she wanted up in the recliner. This big blue, squishy seat has it's own name in our house. It's the "Daddy Chair" since we bought it for Daddy as a birthday/Christmas gift; although Daddy rarely gets to sit in it when the kids are around. The Daddy Chair is a popular spot. Everyone wants to be in it. Every clamors for it. Everyone asks for it by name.

Except normally Megan asks for "Dada's cheer."

This time was different. She clearly and specifically said "Daddy Chair. Up in Daddy Chair."

I'll be honest, I didn't relish the infant stage of parenting. As much as I've adored my children and enjoyed being with them, I did find those newborn days a bit tiresome and tedious. I recall feeling that I was spending my days talking to myself as I cheerily immersed my child in stories, music, and conversation. I had no real noble motivation to do so other than I hate sitting in silence.

When my oldest reached the age where he started to interact as opposed to simply reacting, I started having real fun. That time did arrive just a few months in - the giggles if I tickled him. The coo he'd make if I sang to him. The smile when I kissed his head.

As challenging as toddlerhood can be, it quickly became an age I enjoyed as a parent. We could play together. We could converse. We could understand what was happening in that little head a bit better than when we only heard cries. The older my children get, the more I amazing and wonderful I find them to be. The more they're able to give us a peek into their thought processes, their likes and dislikes, and their sense of humor, the more I realize that they are people I'd like to be with even if we didn't swim in the same gene pool.

All that to say, I rarely, if ever, have lamented the ending of one childhood phase for another. Yet somehow the start of this verbal transition has me a bit remorseful about the pending end of an era. Perhaps it's because Megan is my youngest and my last. Maybe it's not that she's growing up, but that no one else will - at least not as my child.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not in tears. I'm not wishing to freeze her in time. I just wish she'd walk a little slower for a moment or two and let me savor the moment.

Oh yeah, and I wish my damn video camera was working so I could capture said moment...but that's a whole different tangent.


rashbre said...

Sometimes you have to freeze moments in your head.
I will sometimes do it quite consciously.
Here today via Michele's.

kontan said...

I think the last one grows faster than the rest :( I thoroughly enjoy the stages my girls are currently in, but like you I wish the youngest would slow down a little.

Viamarie said...

Yes, you're right. As a parent, we must see to it that we are with them every minute of their growing years so you won't miss a single thing.

Enjoy your weekend with the entire family.

Tropical Screamer said...

I'm very much a "here and now" sort of person after years of looking forward.

Your posts are really helping me see points of our son's childhood that I've enjoyed.

Thanks for sharing those precious times.


d.challener roe said...

That was a cute read...

Here from Michele's

margalit said...

I can really relate. There are days where I wish I could turn back the clock and have sweet little toddlers holding my hand with their sweaty chubby little fingers, but those days are gone forever, and now I get nothing but teenage mouth. Keep watching her grow, but not too fast.

Here from Michele