A New Year Kind Of…

The last of Christmas is heading to the attic for a nice long nap.  Looking back at Christmas, it is so much like a tidal wave that I feel a little shaky now that I’ve been put back on level ground.  Will I remember the reflection of the lights in my children’s eyes?  Did I decorate enough cookies with them? Drink enough hot chocolate? Will they remember why we decorate our tree with white lights, silver, gold and scarlet red? Did we forget anything?  Will they remember being loved so much more than any other gift under any tree? Did we make enough memories to sustain us when we need those memories for comfort?  Those boys are growing up so fast that these days and these memories seem like sand that I am trying to hold in my hand during a hurricane.  No one says, “I hold you?” anymore. They don’t want to grow up and marry me anymore. They remember that I caught the oven on fire last year and they don’t let me live it down. They don’t want matching Christmas pjs anymore.  I find myself in the position of pushing them out of the nest but all the while swooping down and dragging them back, not because they are afraid to grow up but because I am afraid of them growing up.  More than that, I am afraid of what growing up will do to the sweet boys that captured my heart with the first beat of theirs.

A blessing of being a second grade teacher is that one gets to hold onto the magic of childhood and see it sparkle year after year. Nevertheless, we do see a year differently than anyone else, and that makes it hard when you are a parent and a teacher. See, as a teacher, yesterday it was Christmas and tomorrow it will be spring break and then summer, next week.  January becomes April before you know it and their chubby cheeks are gone.  I hope that during this year, you will resolve to slow down enough to appreciate and share the magic with your children while they still think you have magic too.