Gifts

Today, Henry came out of his preschool wearing his big orange back pack. He loves that backpack and I love him. As I watched him walk to the car (and thanked my lucky stars for the pickup line), tears swelled in my eyes. So many thoughts and correlating emotions surfaced in that moment—

That backpack is as big as he is.

He’s no longer a baby.

Abby just toddled out of those same preschool doors, wearing her very own backpack. Now she is a Kindergartener.

Three years is not a long time. Just moments. A blink. Zooooommmmm.

Before I know it, Henry too will be in Kindergarten.

I choked back more tears.

I have the benefit of experiencing life on the other side of the two-year-old pick-up line and Abby grants me this gift of perspective. As a result, I soak up and appreciate the minutes I have with Henry. It’s more challenging with the oldest because there is no one ahead of them gifting 20/20 hindsight. But, I will fold these learnings into my moments with Abby as she pioneers her childhood as the eldest child.

So, if you’ll excuse me, I going to stop writing and go run up and down a corridor and jump off of a big rock with Henry. As we run outside, Abby is inside learning ballet, leaping into her new year. When she’s done, instead of instinctively rushing to our car, I’ll let her leap off the rock, too. And hopefully, in so doing, I will somehow slow the leap of time.