As I cradled my then one month old son, an aqaintance mentioned, “Every Season gets better than the one before.”
At the time, I was learning all the parenting things. He was the first born and those early days bring about so many experiences and emotions: awe, exhaustion, anxiety, thankfulness and the recognition that the future is pondered in units of hours.
I simply could not imagine life beyond that moment. As much as I could do with more sleep and a bit more knowledge into understanding the unexpressible words behind his cries, I loved this season. Tiny clothes. Nap time. First coos and words. Easily portable.
But then something happened.
I learned to love the age of self awareness and wonder.
But then something happened.
I learned to love the embrace of independence and engaging in relationships with others.
But then something happened.
I learned to love kid jokes, profound questions about the universe and welcoming new little friends into our lives.
And I realized, for the most part, she was right. Each season brought a mixture of grief of “lasts,” and learning the steps of our “delicate dance,” with each other.
Twenty six years and three kids later, I love our coffee/fastfood dates as much as sharing juiceboxes and goldfish crackers. TV shows become opportunities for bonding and critical thinking. Walks to the park become trips to favorite stores or working out. And games become more sophisticated (and competitive!).
Something happened. Twenty -six years went by fast. Life does look different. But I will take all that’s offered in this season while anticipating the next one.
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