Sunday, May 01, 2011
Time in a Bottle
I'm no Jim Croce fan, but I'm finding myself more and more wanting to save time in a bottle.
I wish that I could put things aside for later -- to save my kids' raucous laughter and cutting up (that inevitably turns to wailing as one torments the others). I wish I could preserve the physical contact that my son so craves now, so that I could have it later, instead of now, when I want to have some time to exist as a singular entity, instead of sometimes feeling as if wants to crawl back into the womb, cuddling right up beside me.
I feel like a grinchy miser when I react with frustration or indifference to this kind of behavior. What kind of mom is irritated by her children's exuberant laughter? I certainly hope I am not the only one.
But what I really want to save, tuck it away to use later like a "Get out of Jail free" Monopoly card, is the words. Whereas right now I often want to tell the 6-year-old to put a cork in it, because the constant barrage of words overwhelms me and wears me down, I know that in a few years, I will covet anytime that I get more than a grunt in response.
It's already happened with his big sister. I remember well when I had to tell preschool-Amanda to just sit and be quiet, especially after a long day confined to the car doing errands. "You're not in trouble, honey, but you just have to stop talking for a little while."
She's not a sullen, silent 12-year-old, but she's definitely found the filter. Unlike her younger self and her brother, she doesn't express every thought she has.
The time will come. I know that. In my heart of hearts, I appreciate them. I love their spirit, their exuberance, their laughter, their chattiness. But I do wish that I could bottle some up so that I could appreciate it in future years when it's gone.