I woke up today with a heavy heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course, although it wouldn’t hurt to have it weighed, I suppose. I’ve been thinking about my kids. They are in recovery from the school year and waiting for camp to start and we are spending the days doing things together.
On Monday, we went to the High Line in New York City. Then we went bowling. On Tuesday, we went to the Bronx Zoo. Although we are together all the time, I feel like I am running out of time.
The days are going by quickly. And my kids are growing up. On the train back home the other day, my son rested his head on my shoulder, but when I bent down to kiss him, he wiped it off and said “MOM”. He’ll still sit on my lap sometimes, but I know that I have a finite number of the lap sits left. They were always finite, of course, but now I can actually see the end. I know there’s a time when he’ll get off my lap and never come back.
It breaks my heart.
I know that I am so lucky. I am luckier than many and in my heart, I am luckier than all. Because despite all my constant whining, my kids are awesome and they make me laugh every single day.
Like yesterday, when I called my daughter to tell her that I’m on my way to pick her up from her friend’s house and to please be ready when I get there and she said, “but I’m NOT ready! I’m in costume!” and when she was talking about the “f-word” and I asked her that it was, because in previous years it was “Fudge” and “fart” and she said “fuck”. And my son, who when I told him that he can’t be part of the summer baseball league because he’s a year too young, said “let’s just tell them that I’m a midget.”
I love seeing the world through their eyes and I miss it already.
I miss them already. Because childhood is fleeting and in 2009 NYC it seems to be more fleeting.
I’m sorry for being so morose. I hope that this isnt’ the start of menopause or anything.
One year ago ...
- Rosé - 2011