It was an unremarkable Saturday morning.
I combed her curly hair and pulled it back into a ponytail. I helped squeeze his feet into last year’s water shoes. I grabbed our bag for swimming lessons and quickly glanced back to make sure they were headed down the stairs. We were running late and that didn’t lend itself to the dawdling that had already consumed our day.
And then it happened.
One quick glance at my toddlers and I was hit with a Mack truck. Maybe it was the ponytail. Maybe it was the slightly grown out big-boy haircut. But they somehow aged ten years right before my eyes. As they carefully made their way downstairs, I caught a glimpse of exactly what they’ll look like when they are older. Who they’ll be when they’re older.
I caught a glimpse of their determination.
“Me do it.” She said as she swatted her brother’s hand out of hers and resumed her death grip on the handrail. Her face twisted with the resolve to get down the stairs by herself. By. Herself. Thankyouverymuch. Their stubborn determination is frustrating now, but I hope it sticks forever. That they don’t give up. That it’s OK to do it on their own. And that they know that the other is right there with a helping hand, should they need it.
I caught a glimpse of their fun.
Their giggles bounce off the walls. They make our house feel full and lively. They can hardly contain their energy. Jumping off the last stair. Jumping on the couch. It’s hard to imagine that the decibel levels will continue to climb, but I know as they grow, so will their presence. I have always wanted a house full of fun. Kids streaming in and out of the front and back doors when it’s sunny. Crowded in our basement for movies and popcorn late at night. Bags piled by the front door of sports equipment, dance shoes and school books. Listening to their laughter peal in our stairs, I couldn’t help but smile. How will our walls contain the giggles when we’ve got slumber parties and pizza dinners? The fun will spill out of our doors and into the neighborhood. I can’t wait.
I caught a glimpse of their confidence.
They are so sure. They know that they have the complete support and love of the people around them. They see the whole world as their oyster.
This second-long glimpse into our future stopped me in my tracks. I blinked and there they were, back to the sweet babies that need a hand on the sidewalk step and boost up to their car seat.
I have been lamenting the quick passage of time and wishing that I could press pause and keep my littles little. This was the best reminder that there is so much good to come. These little people are going to keep getting better. And as much as I want time to slow, I really can’t wait to see what’s next.