Know what I think?
I think little boys should not be allowed to turn four years old. Especially those little boys who happen to be their mother’s “baby.”
A mother’s heart is a crazy thing. Half of it wants our small children to hurry up and wean, hurry up and potty train, hurry up and gain some independence already. And yet the other half wants them to never do any of those things and to remain exactly as they are forever. When the inevitable happens and they do gain some self-sufficiency, our hearts ache just a little at what feels like the ultimate betrayal.
I remember one day years ago when a friend remarked that pretty soon my daughter would be old enough to baby sit her younger siblings and I would gain some freedom.
“No way!” I gasped. “No way!”
And yet in that same moment of denial some small part of me was scheming. I was plotting sippy cup-free excursions of all kinds. I was contemplating the pleasure of stepping into a car and buckling in only myself before turning the key in the ignition.
I was more than ready.
But I wake up on a day like today, Daniel’s fourth birthday, and I don’t feel ready for this growing up thing at all.
I want to freeze my little man and package him up tight. I want to preserve him, just as he is, forever. But I know I will just have to settle for remembering.
I want to remember his sandy hair, in wild blonde tufts that smells like the ocean at the end of a summer day. I want to remember his fat toes, his chubby, boyish hands, and the wild grin he gives me when he’s about to try out some naughty.
I want to remember the little boy who a few weeks ago bounded into my bedroom.
“Mama, dis is for you,” he announced solemnly.
He stood on one foot and spun. He held his arms out to the sides to keep his balance and then came to a sudden stop. He glanced at me shyly before bowing — one hand held elegantly to the side for dramatic effect.
For me, from him. I’ll take it.
(cross-posted at DanielleBean.com)
Sweet! And you’re right. Cherish all of these things because it’s over way too fast!
I come at this from a somewhat odd perspective: I was a bachelor until I was 40, then married a woman with two teenagers. Now, less 7 years later, I am a grandfather. Bachelor to grandfather in 7 years! Yikes!
My wife, however, echoes your sentiments exactly. She tells me of how Charlie, her son, was so tiny that she would carry him inside her coat during cold Chicago winters, and it is if she were speaking of yesterday. Charlie, of course, is now a 6 foot tall, rugby-playing college student. I think if she could shrink him back down to a tiny thing inside her coat–just for a little while–she would.
This morning my oldest son, 18, woke me up to take him and his sister to their class. My 5 year old was snuggled up against me, and I watched him sleep as I dressed & grabbed my purse. Covered him with the sheet before I left. How precious he looks when he’s sleeping.
When I got home, my husband (working from home today) said, “When the little guy got up, he came out rubbing his eyes. ‘Mommy’s gone! She’s gone FOREVER!” and was on the brink of crying. His daddy held him and assured him I’d be right back, just like always. He tried so hard not to laugh.
Little Sweetcheeks didn’t even notice when I came in the door.
I have a 4 year old son and I concur. The more we cut his hair (so cute when it’s short and cut like a “little boy,” the more I wish it was long and scraggly like it was on his first birthday. Bittersweet.
Good to see that striped shirts like I wore when I was little are still in.
When my then youngest turned four, I really felt I had crossed a threshold, a turning point in my mothering, and it made me sad. Then, just 2 months later I found out I was pregnant, and I put off the sadness for a while longer. I like to think that when it comes again, I’ll be better prepared for it. We’ll see.
I have a few years before my youngest reaches four, by that time I’ll probably forget that I don’t want anymore and be ready to be pregnant again. Already my oldest (9) seems to be growing way too fast… I want to hold on to her and not let go.
Alas, my littlest guy is six…a few yeas ago I had a rude awakening. After 21 years of nursing, I discovered that mommies who aren’t breastfeeding NEVER get to sit down without feeling guilty
.
My “boys” are 40, 38 and 37. In my mind’s eye they are forever the 3 tow-heads playing in the sand. “Don’t cry for what is passing. Rejoice for what has been and will always be in memory.”
Daniel’s birthday is the same day as my youngest granddaughter, and now she is the mother of a beautiful 6-month old son, Brenden. Happy birthday to both of them.
God Bless,
Jeannette
and their little necks are so soft and fragile — and the birdfeather hair–thank you for reminding me to live in these glorious moments.
My oldest grandson just turned 18 and has enlisted in the Marines as I did at the same age. Just yesterday his Dad and Uncle were two “tow heads” playing soldiers in the sand.
Where on earth did all the time go?
brian
I love four year old boys. They are no longer babies–they’re all male, but sweet enough to break your heart.
Danielle,
This is why, whenever I pray the 7 Sorrows of Mary (which I do often bc she promised that those who do would have “peace in their families”), I always add an 8th Sorrow of Mary in the middle: Jesus leaves home.
Since tradition teaches that Joseph was dead by that time, I can imagine Blessed Mother standing at the door of their cave/house & watching Jesus walk away, knowing full well what awaited him. That had to be a Sorrow for her.
lovely, Danielle! My baby is seven and I have to try to let him go…he is not a baby anymore. But still so sweet
Beautiful post and all that you mentioned is so true Danielle, (especially about a mother’s heart being a crazy thing)! I find this true about all the kids in our large brood (7 kids). Sometimes I want to freeze our entire family at this point because what I love best about having a large family is we have all these wonderful ages, all the “sweetness” of every age group is covered from teen to pre-teen, to early elementary, and of course the “baby” (for us it is ages 15 down to 3 1/2). I try to cherish it all but it does go by quickly!
Embrace the “now”, wherever that happens to be My “baby boy”just requested, for his 15th birthday, a bottle of Ralph Lauren Polo cologne. When I mentioned this to his grandfather, he said that’s what he wears, and that the first time he smelled it was on his father-in-law, my son’s namesake. I won’t tell my young Beau Brummel that he likes the scent Great-Grandpa wore. Dad likes plain soap, and my sister’s son 2 weeks older, still has to be nagged to shower every other day.
I suspect Younger Son will be a good husband because he is used to taking into account the advice of all his sisters.
What a perfect boy. I am now a grandfather to three boys. Ah, what is the use.! I can’t write anything about them without tearing up.I have never experienced such exquisite love. God really loves me because he has given them to me!!