Monday - Growing, changing, blooming
Feb. 27th, 2006 03:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday on my drive into work, I was thinking about how watching my son grow reminds me of those films where they use stop-action photography to show a flower open up or a tree grow and lose it's leaves with the seasons. I am watching a human being come into being, growing and blossoming before my eyes, and it is happening at an amazing rate.
I always heard people say that kids grow so fast, and it seemed like a silly thing to say. After all, it takes 18 years to grow a human being from a baby. More than that, for some people I've met. It's didn't seem fast at all. When you are the kid, it seems like forever. Now I've stepped over the line into the role of the parent, and it's incredible how fast it happens.
Each frame lasts only an instant. In one, you are staring at a red-faced bundle thinking, "Oh my God, what do I do now?" In the next shot, he is throwing back his head and laughing as you look down into his crib. In the next, he is rolling himself over. Then he is crawling. Then pulling himself along the furniture. Then walking. Now running, awkward but sure of himself, running because he does not want to be carried because he is not a baby, he is big.
This has not taken 16 months to happen, it has only been a few short hours in my life, I swear. A day or two, at the most.
Last week I took him to the grocery store after I picked him up from daycare. The store has baskets that look like little trucks, where small children can sit at the front of the basket and "drive" it while you push from the back. The cab of the truck can hold two children, so there are two steering wheels to keep the peace. Since my son has the whole cab to himself, he turns both wheels, one with each hand. He likes to drive, and feels that he is good at it. He turns around to watch me through the rear window from time to time, to make sure I am still there. It is very important that I not stack groceries so that they block his view from the rear window. If I do, the entire store will hear his displeasure. The only peace offering that can appease him after this offense is a free cookie from the bakery department, which makes everything better.
Early on, I was one of those mothers who was never going to give my child junk food like cookies. I didn't approve of it. He learned about cookies at daycare, where he discovered that he likes them. One day in the grocery store I grabbed a cookie from the free-cookie bin in the bakery and was holding it in my hand as I pushed the basket. At this time, he was still too little to drive the truck so he was sitting at the front of the cart. He he took it out of my hand (yoink!) and popped it into his own mouth before I could stop him, giving me a defiant look that dared me to try and take it back.
So much for my first attempt at hypocrisy.
Now he drives the cart from the front where he mans two steering wheels. If I want a cookie, I can sometimes eat one without him noticing. Before we pull up to the checkout we are in an extra wide lane where I can spin the cart while I provide the screeching-tire sounds for him. This makes him laugh and it makes me dizzy, but it's an important part of our weekly shopping experience.
Sometimes another shopper will watch us as we finish our spin. I am invariably unsteady on my feet at this point; I always spin at least 3 times because his laughter is so beautiful to me.
"Is this one your first?" they ask.
"Yes," I say, watching my son lean against the inside of the cab to entice me to spin it again, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright, "he is."
We spin one more time before pulling in to have the checkout girl unload the truck. She waves at him in the cab, and he waves back. He looks forward, grabs one of the wheels, and slams his feet down in an attempts to floor it, to make the truck go again because sitting still is boring.
In what will seem like another few days of my life, he will one day drive away from home, waving at me from the window. In the meantime, we have these moment of shared cookies and turning donuts in front of the checkout booth.
I wouldn't trade them for anything.
I always heard people say that kids grow so fast, and it seemed like a silly thing to say. After all, it takes 18 years to grow a human being from a baby. More than that, for some people I've met. It's didn't seem fast at all. When you are the kid, it seems like forever. Now I've stepped over the line into the role of the parent, and it's incredible how fast it happens.
Each frame lasts only an instant. In one, you are staring at a red-faced bundle thinking, "Oh my God, what do I do now?" In the next shot, he is throwing back his head and laughing as you look down into his crib. In the next, he is rolling himself over. Then he is crawling. Then pulling himself along the furniture. Then walking. Now running, awkward but sure of himself, running because he does not want to be carried because he is not a baby, he is big.
This has not taken 16 months to happen, it has only been a few short hours in my life, I swear. A day or two, at the most.
Last week I took him to the grocery store after I picked him up from daycare. The store has baskets that look like little trucks, where small children can sit at the front of the basket and "drive" it while you push from the back. The cab of the truck can hold two children, so there are two steering wheels to keep the peace. Since my son has the whole cab to himself, he turns both wheels, one with each hand. He likes to drive, and feels that he is good at it. He turns around to watch me through the rear window from time to time, to make sure I am still there. It is very important that I not stack groceries so that they block his view from the rear window. If I do, the entire store will hear his displeasure. The only peace offering that can appease him after this offense is a free cookie from the bakery department, which makes everything better.
Early on, I was one of those mothers who was never going to give my child junk food like cookies. I didn't approve of it. He learned about cookies at daycare, where he discovered that he likes them. One day in the grocery store I grabbed a cookie from the free-cookie bin in the bakery and was holding it in my hand as I pushed the basket. At this time, he was still too little to drive the truck so he was sitting at the front of the cart. He he took it out of my hand (yoink!) and popped it into his own mouth before I could stop him, giving me a defiant look that dared me to try and take it back.
So much for my first attempt at hypocrisy.
Now he drives the cart from the front where he mans two steering wheels. If I want a cookie, I can sometimes eat one without him noticing. Before we pull up to the checkout we are in an extra wide lane where I can spin the cart while I provide the screeching-tire sounds for him. This makes him laugh and it makes me dizzy, but it's an important part of our weekly shopping experience.
Sometimes another shopper will watch us as we finish our spin. I am invariably unsteady on my feet at this point; I always spin at least 3 times because his laughter is so beautiful to me.
"Is this one your first?" they ask.
"Yes," I say, watching my son lean against the inside of the cab to entice me to spin it again, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright, "he is."
We spin one more time before pulling in to have the checkout girl unload the truck. She waves at him in the cab, and he waves back. He looks forward, grabs one of the wheels, and slams his feet down in an attempts to floor it, to make the truck go again because sitting still is boring.
In what will seem like another few days of my life, he will one day drive away from home, waving at me from the window. In the meantime, we have these moment of shared cookies and turning donuts in front of the checkout booth.
I wouldn't trade them for anything.
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-28 03:35 pm (UTC)Thank you!
As for kids yes they do grow so fast, my oldest niece just turned 16 yesterday and it makes me feel so very old, I'm 27 and just so aware of how much she has changed from when she was a baby, to age 4, 8, 12 to now.
I try to tell myself that, while the kids around me are getting older, I myself am immune. As they say, "You're only young once, but you can be immature forever..."