The idea of everything dying, the loss of summer and long evenings and carefree days made me sad. I even used to have what I eloquently termed the "fake fall feeling." I'd get it in mid-August on those days when a sudden gust of wind brought the smell of campfire, or on a colder than normal day when I had to don a jacket. The fake fall feeling made me a little anxious, a little sad that things were changing.
And then I got to be pregnant with Ben in the fall.
That was the year that Thomas went to preschool for the first time. After three years of caring for him, I found myself with 2 free hours to kill a week. I looked forward to those hours; some weeks packing in as many tasks and projects as possible, others simply taking a nap in a completely silent house.
The excitement of the seasons changing and being pregnant and having free time and taking a sweet 3 year old (I love 3 so much!) to preschool changed my opinion of fall forever. Suddenly I loved the trees covered in leaves of brightest orange and red. I liked the nip in the air as I drove to my doctor appointments, each one bringing me close to the day I'd hold my new baby.
This fall is a little bittersweet. Ben is going to the same preschool now as Thomas did then. The leaves are all changing, and again I find myself able to pack 20 things into 2 hours that are sacredly my own. But I can't help looking back to that beautiful fall 4 years ago when I was creating life even as the world around me was dying. I feel a little lonely this time around, because I really wasn't alone then; Ben was with me, but completely contained and maintanence-free.
I'm trying to wrap my head around the idea that my years with little ones are numbered. In 3 years, Ben will be in school full time, and my two hours of free time will be multiplied many times over. But he'll also be big and 6 and not 3 anymore. Thomas will be 10 and even bigger and not 7 anymore. That should make me happy, but it doesn't. I like my little people.
I wish they could stay little a little longer.
6 comments:
Sniff.
It's not fair. I logically know that sometime you have to stop having new babies. But I don't think I will ever stop feeling this feeling you are describing. the wrapping your head around the end of little-one days. Someone told me to think about the positive trade offs: you get to sleep all night most of the time, and you don't have to worry about diaper bags, and your body is your own. Etc, etc.
Deep down, though, I don't think it's worth the trade off. I'd trade sleeping all night for just one more little one.
Just one more.
What I really want to know is if the lucky women who got to have the amount of kids they wanted feel this way. or if the little nagging "wait, I'm not REALLY done" is the provinence of women like us, who wanted one more but couldn't.
It's not really fair. But then, you know that.
Hugs.
I realized recently that I am not actually looking forward to being the mom of big kids. I also love the little ones:)
Hey beck,
What was that website that I go to and get the ticker thing so I can see who has been to my blog??
Lynds
Which options do you choose? I don't understand them! lol
Hey Becky.
I love this post. I love the nostalgia, the longing and the love. I LOVE fall.
I was going to email you but I'll just leave a comment. I'm going to try to come to music makers tomorrow. I'll be in town for Sam and Henry's eye appointments, which are early tomorrow morning, and I would love to see you and Melanie. Do you think it'd be alright?
lucyhj4302@msn.com
I hate that they grow up. I never understood that until I had my own and he just won't quit growing.
(But I still hate fall.)
As always Becky...great post. (And congrats on Dorothy!)
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