Jan 17, 2012

Really really

My children are growing up too fast. I know...it's so cliche, isn't it.. (Don't you like how I have NO idea how to put an accent over the 'e'?) to say that, I mean. You hear it all the time, and honestly, I find it freakin' annoying when other people tell me that. And by other people, I mean my mother. My mom tells me this all. the. time. The girls will be arguing about something, and i'll yell, "BE QUIET!!" Mom will look at me and say, "One day, you're going to miss that noise." I call bullcrap on that one. I don't think any mother sighs and thinks, "I really miss the sounds of my kids beating the hell out of each other." I KNOW i will miss the sounds of their laughter--except when they're supposed to be sleeping and I'm tired, and for the-love-of-God-will-you-just-stop-talking-and-go-to-sleep. No, I won't miss THAT. I'll miss the laughter that ensues when the cat comes running out of their room, and they've adorned him with Build-a-Bear pants. Or, the riotious giggles that come when they use their fancy microphone to sound like 'mump-a-chi-kins' ('munchkins' in Claire-ese). Yes, THOSE are the things I miss.

Recently, I'm missing those baby faces. I've been slacking in the "yearly" photo department. I mean, REALLY slacking. Don't get me wrong, I take pictures of the girls a lot--but they're simply snapshots--not "it's a new year and we have to chronicle it" pictures. So yesterday, they had the day off of school, I had the day off of work, and we ventured out--the girls in their favorite outfits, myself armed with my camera and reflector board.

First stop, the train tracks, 2nd stop the park. It was fun. The girls were scared to death to get on the train tracks. Clairey played sentinel while I took Jen's pics, an vice versa. They heard the far-off whistle of a train and scampered off the tracks--no train in sight. As I stood there, Clairey yelled, "Mommy!! There's a train coming! I heard it! GET OFF THE TRACKS!!!" As I took my time, they proceeded to freak out. Although, like I mentioned, no train in sight. So, I did what any mother would do--I sat on the track and fiddled with my camera. hahaha! I'm so evil. After they screamed for a while, I got off the track.

So, here are a few of them...

My sweet girls--probably mere moments before bickering over something stupid...


And here is where I begin to cry... Jenna walked into my office as I was uploading these, and I just sat there...my hand over my mouth. "What's wrong, mom?" she asked. "This picture really hurts," I whispered.
"It hurts? Why?"
"Because you are so grown--you don't even look like a little girl."
"So it really hurts?"
"Yes, it hurts my heart..."
"Really?"
"Really, really."


And these freckles....how will I ever deal with this one growing up? This is my baby!! And I don't care what any one says--"Cute as a button" my butt. I've never seen a button this damn cute.

My little miss smarty pants. Never wants to smile, but is so lovely all the same.


My little presh. I could look at that profile all day. Nom nom nom.

STOP GROWING, PLEASE.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Great post Stephanie. As the father of a grown daughter, I know exactly where you're coming from. The good news is, as much as I miss my "baby", I wouldn't trade the relationship Kilty and I have now for anything in the world. I hate when I hear parents talk about being "friends" with their young children. I'm sorry...you can be close, you can be doting, and attentive and loving and supportive, but you've ALWAYS got to be the parent, not the friend, IMO. I have found that changes when they become adults, though. Being able to relate to your kid on an adult level is a whole new source of satisfaction and pride for me. So yes, you're heart will hurt for a while like mine did, but you've still got a whole lot to look forward to.
Anyway, thanks for the morning smile/tear. I always enjoy your writing.

Craig