perspective is hard to maintain. my rantings of late have been about the hardships of parenting a 2 year old. and they are many. the power struggles. the "NO mommys." the impatience (on both our parts). they are all things we must navigate daily.
but sometimes when there is a quiet moment when no one is particularly upset or happy and we're not involved in any activity i look down at my growing-way-too-fast boy and time stops briefly between the two of us. i can see the whir of color and motion around us--sped-up time in my peripheral vision. but in the bubble of motionlessness it's just he and i. and i wonder so many things about him in that instance. what will he be like when he grows up? what will he study in college? what will he LOOK like? what will his first girlfriend (or boyfriend) look like? what will he think about? what will he teach me?
i try to imagine all this--all the answers. and then, when my few seconds are up, sped-up time around us seeps back in and swallows us up again. and i'm looking at my 2 year old and thinking, "i need to appreciate every moment with him just as he is right now, because i'll never get it back. and it'll be gone SO unkindly fast."
this whole thought process sure does make me think about the possibility of child #2. to get to do it all again would be so lovely in so many ways. it's true. but it's not enough. because i'll never get to do it again with bb. i only get one shot with him. and i'm already so saddened that i don't remember his infancy the way i want to. was it sleep deprivation? the shock and deer-in-the-headlightness of becoming a parent and being needed 24/7? i'm not sure. but if i do it again. i'm going to try to remain more present.
wish me luck.