I took all four kids to the park last week.
Family visits to the park are tricky with as wide an age range as we have.
Torri is way beyond playing. At the park, or anywhere else for that matter. She’d rather sit on the bench next to me (or across from me if someone she knows is around) texting like a madwoman.
Kennedy is eleven. She splits her time between playing with her younger siblings and sitting next to the mad texter.
Cassidy and Jayce turn into banshees the moment they set their eyes on the playground. Not even the pied piper of an ice cream truck steals away their attention.
This story, though, is about Kennedy, my girl stuck in the middle.
I know these days are fleeting. I know that Kennedy is liable to assume a position flanking Torri any day now.
It could be next week. It might be next month. It’ll probably be before next year.
So it is with a fluttering heart that I watch her on the playground, chasing her brother down the slide, and dangling like an exclamation point from the monkey bars. She darts from here to there, occasionally catching herself in merriment and reigning it in so as not to appear giddy over a plastic slide.
I watched her older sister transform before my very eyes. One day a merry-go-round brought her hours of fun. And then suddenly it didn’t.
It’ll likely be similar for Kennedy. Part of my heart aches at the knowledge of what is to come.
There is another part of me though. Part of me that watches her head of bouncy red hair hurry across the chain bridge, her gigantic smile beaming all the while. That part of me has learned to live in, and be ever so thankful for, the moment. That’s one of the beauties of having multiple children; with each new babe you learn what to hold on to and what to let go of.
This go round I know to hold on to toothless grins and chocolate milk mustaches. Handwritten invitations to impromptu performances in the backyard. Mismatched outfits and ponytails. Tucking in. Help baking cookies. Snuggles.
These middle things. Lord only knows how surely I’ll miss these middle things.
Not just yet though.
For now I’m happy being stuck in the middle with her.
Heather March 3, 2009 11:19 am
You are such a gifted writer. I have chills, and tears welling in my eyes, feeling a little bit of that ache right along with you.
Of course my girls are younger, but already the left-behind things are a growing list. It’s not easy.
Have you considered writing a letter to Kennedy about this very thing? It would be nice to capture the moment for her to read later. I have a friend who writes monthly letters to her kids – I need to put that on my lengthy to-do list.
me March 3, 2009 11:49 am
Wow, how true that is, as I started reading this I had an image in my mind of an 18mo old blond girl, chubby cheeks, her first pair of blue jeans, a blue top with embroidered flowers on the color and black patent leather shoes, running in the park at Atascadero Lake. XO
Jen@OurDailyBigTop March 3, 2009 12:23 pm
Love that song! This hit home as my oldest turned 8 – I thought I’d be ready for him to grow up. It’s nice to get these reminders to enjoy/hold on to the middle things.
Becky March 3, 2009 1:18 pm
What a beautiful way to put it! I need to live in the moment more. My oldest heads off to school in the fall and I suddenly feel like time is barreling past me at break-neck speed.
Stephanie March 3, 2009 1:33 pm
Aw. So sweet. You have such a lovely way with words.
I know this time is fleeting with my 2-year-old and I want to cherish these crazy days. I once heard someone say that the “days are long, but the years are short…” That’s how I feel. Sometimes the days seem so long and tedious…but then, when I catch my breath and look at my little girl, I realize how big she’s become.
Krystyn March 3, 2009 1:54 pm
Oh, how sweet. I’m sooooo dreading these days of them growing up!!
Oh, and we’ve got Princess panties….and that still doesn’t do the trick!
Allison L March 3, 2009 2:15 pm
Awwwww…this reminds me of how fast they grow up and even though mine are much younger, it still holds true for all phases in their lives.
Jaye March 3, 2009 3:44 pm
Aww, I love your choice of words – beautiful :)
misty March 3, 2009 4:56 pm
this was, to date, my favorite post of yours! LOVE IT!
Wendy March 3, 2009 9:42 pm
What a truly lovely post! If I were you, I’d print it up and put it away for your daughter once she has kids of her own. I don’t think we can really understand how much our parents love us until we become parents ourselves.
See? I can be nice. :o)
Becca @ the Stanley Clan March 3, 2009 11:41 pm
This is beautiful :-) I love your words and way of describing things. Your daughter will treasure this one day! :-)
kristen@nosmallthing March 10, 2009 4:39 pm
I loved this post. I can feel those same things coming soon.