Time Just Slips Away

Every once in awhile, I come to the end of the day, look back on it and realize that my little children are growing up. I know, they're only three and one, but still cumulatively that's so many days, so many hours, so many moments piled on top of each other that are past now. Not only the time, but their old selves also slip away. Eli was once a newborn, then an infant (rolling and sitting up), then a baby (pulling himself up and crawling), and now he's a toddler. Caleb was once a newborn, then an infant, then a baby, then a toddler, and now he's an early preschooler. One of my favorite times of the day is when I go in after they've gone to sleep to make sure they're covered. Though their brains may be working, for just a second they are as frozen in time and development as two healthy growing boys ever are.

Caleb

Actually, our night had some moments that were definitely NOT tender. Caleb fought with me over brushing his teeth and flossing. I don't know how to make this a pleasant activity, but it's an especially necessary nightly activity at our house because Caleb has a (so far not serious) heart condition-- a bicuspid aortic valve-- that is in more danger if he gets an infection, so his cardiologist has been telling us for the last two years that we need to get him good dental care. After literally wrestling with him to brush his teeth tonight (most of the time he's more cooperative), I couldn't help railing, "Who in the world thinks it's a good idea to floss a three-year-olds teeth!!" In any case, harsh words were spoken. Caleb was so wiggly and kept talking and pointing at me and I was so frustrated that I held him down to brush his teeth. Then I tried to floss and, with tears coming out of his angry face, he declared, "I don't want you to. You're being . . . mean!" And I responded angrily that it was because he was being difficult. It wound up that he went to bed without getting his teeth flossed, praying, getting scripture story, or reading scriptures (the last two being his favorite part of our bedtime routine).

Then Patrick read scriptures to me and Eli while I sat fuming and frustrated, both at myself and at Caleb. In the course of this whole discussion, I remembered a blog post I had read by a friend of mine, an elementary school music teacher, on the beauty of the words, "I forgive you." After I put Eli in his crib in the boys' room, I sat by Caleb's bed.

"How do you feel?" I asked Caleb.

"Sad," he sobbed.

"Do you think Mommy was bad?"

"Yes."

"What did I do that was bad?"

"I don't know."

"Remember how you said I was mean. Was I being mean?"

"Yes."

"I was mean, Caleb. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have been so mean. Can you forgive me?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you were bad?"

"I can't remember."

"Were you being wiggly and crazy and making it hard for me to brush your teeth?"

"Yes. Do you forgive me?"

"Yes, I forgive you, Caleb."

And we gave each other a hug. At our house, we are trying to learn about the Holy Ghost and what it feels like.

"When we were fighting, I couldn't feel the Holy Ghost, Caleb. It went away, and I felt so bad inside. I feel so much better now."

And it was true! What a difference it made to make peace and forgive each other! But the fact that my little boy, my very first baby, had this conversation with me and could tell me how he felt and could understand, to some degree, what it means to apologize and forgive, it just reminded me that he's not a baby anymore, which is both wonderful and fantastic and exciting, but is also a little mystifying and maybe in a certain sense even a little sad that he's grown so much.

Eli

There wasn't any drama with Eli today. He had his moments of begging and grunting and whining, but overall there wasn't any real contention.

What astounded me with Eli had to do with when I was making dinner. Eli had been munching on pretzels, and I decided he'd better stop so he would have room for dinner. He still kept hanging out in our (TINY) kitchen and going "eh! eh!" begging and whining. Now, in the past, I've deterred him by handing him something and saying, "Go take this to Daddy." So I knew that he had a basic understanding of following instructions. Today, I was in the midst of setting the table and had the fridge open. He made a grab for the {fako} bacon bits and I was serving a salad, so I said, "Oh good! Go put those on the table, Eli." To my surprise, he did it and came back for more! He then proceeded to load the table with croutons, forks, a cup, and a water bottle (all in the exact same location on the table). Even my current baby is becoming a capable, intelligent, functioning little person. It astounds me and amazes me.

Me

Come to think of it, I have often thought and heard other people express how God must look on us as babies with so little comprehension. If there's an equivalency there, then it gives me some comfort that every once in awhile he must think, "Wow! Look at you! You're doing great! You're growing and understanding and learning. Keep up the good work, little one." I hope that this year will be a year when he will feel that way about me. I hope that this year I will grow a little wiser, a little stronger, and a little more compassionate. Here's to hoping!