A Day in the Life

Last Friday night, my husband and I went to the mall with our daughter. The purpose of the trip was a Craigslist transaction (they always feel like a drug deal - let's meet at X; I'll have the goods and you'll have the $$$), but afterward we let Elizabeth walk around the mall. She toddled along like she does, sometimes holding our hands, mostly not, scoping out the world from her 1.5 foot advantage. Provided a running commentary including "trash," "ball," "shoe," and "hat." Hey, for a 16 month old, that's akin to an in-depth philosophical diatribe.

But what blew my mind as Sam and I followed in her wake was that this time last year, Elizabeth was a smushy little blob - cute, yes, but her repertoire was limited to crying, gurgles, gummy smiles and spit-up. Okay, there was some more, but she's changed so much. She GREW so much. Duh, you might say, Captain Obvious - that's what babies do, they grow. Yet, until Elizabeth arrived, I had no idea how fast, how poignant this growth can be. Or, paradoxically, how slow some days go by.

When I hit a slow day (a day or afternoon that stretches into forever, alone with a cranky young toddler) I try to keep in mind the best parenting advice ever given to me: "This too shall pass." It's both comforting (hey! she won't be sobbing about the Teddy Grahams forever) and warning (enjoy this now - she'll never be this way again). This advice rocks - helps give me perspective on this ever-changing journey of motherhood that I travel each day. My favorite part is that Sam gave me this advice - probably without thinking, as it was sometime between 1 and 4 am and we had both been up with a crying newborn for much of that night. I believe I was sitting in the glider where I used to nurse Elizabeth, sobbing, convinced there was no light at the end of the tunnel, that the tunnel stretched on forever and that we would forever be the stewards of a helpless, wordless, mostly inhuman human baby. Thank goodness that wasn't true!

Fast forward a year from that pathetic scene. Today's been a pretty typical day - up at 7 to take a shower before Elizabeth wakes, breakfast for her and me, clothes for her and me. We drove to Lancaster to get the car's oil changed; Elizabeth enjoyed checking out the "big trucks" in the showroom and voraciously ate pretzels in the waiting room. On the way home, we stopped at the park and bumped into some friends, swung on the swings, played on the slide. Then we came home, ate lunch and Elizabeth went down for her "snooze." She'll wake up soon, I know, and we'll run to the grocery store and bank, come home, make dinner and wait for Sam to come home (yay weekend!). Along the way, we'll listen to Sesame Street music, blow bubbles, dance and read. I'll empty the dishwasher and warn her away from the hot oven. She'll raise her arms and demand "up," spot the bag of Tostitos and ask for "chips."

And throughout this typical day, I'll be amazed at this little person who has come so far, so fast and still has so far to go. And I'll also be proud of me and Sam - how fast and far we've come - and how far we will continue to go.

I love my family. Life is good.