What I Won’t Miss

I was at the grocery store. I knew exactly what I needed. So, in theory, this should be relatively painless. But as my twins noticed the kid’s grocery shopping carts, they happily stated “I’ll help you shop!” My feisty two year old declared that he did not want to sit in the cart.  Nope. He evidently decided it was time to grow up and push mommy’s cart. And don’t even think about helping him.  

I started to feel my pulse rate increase as a bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. Suddenly my painless trip to the store seemed like a hike through Yellowstone Park with no guide. The trip started out okay as I tried to implement all those wonderful parenting skills I read about.  I was teaching the children all about wonderful fruits and vegetables and I was almost convinced they would turn into seasoned farmers by the time our trip would end.  

Except my little two year old tyrant wanted to grab the strawberries. And then wanted to open them. And then wanted to hit his brother for trying to help him.   

Crap.

I could play the next ten minutes out before they even happened. Little guy threw his back out. Landed limpless on the floor. Screaming like we had just burned his favorite bear. And now the twins decided they were over shopping and asked when we could go.

Usually when this happens, I avoid eye contact and just try and get out of the store as fast as humanely possible. Praying no one approaches us, I grab my limpless, irrational screaming toddler and rush to the checkout line.

And then it happens.

That stranger. That look. Sometimes annoyance (I get it). And sometimes pity (I appreciate it). But this day was a different kind of look. It was a sentimental look like when you reflect on past Christmases with your family, laughing and playing games.

“I was once you. Believe me, it’s tough. But you will miss this” was the strangers input.    

MISS THIS?!! I wanted to chuckle and reply... hell no. But I just offered a nice smile and got the heck out of that store.   

A million thoughts engulfed me as I drove home that day. The stranger was wrong. I wouldn’t miss this. I wouldn’t miss the store tantrums. I wouldn’t miss the nights of sickness and poop filled diapers. And cleaning up throw up from the carpet. The fights, the tears, the hard, hard moments.  

Maybe I won’t miss those things. But I will miss a lot of it.

I’ll miss the smell of a newborn. Cuddling in a rocking chair when you haven’t slept in days. I’ll miss the lullabies and the long stroller walks when I just needed fresh air. I’ll miss the way you boys get excited for even the smallest things. The way your eyes light up when I bring home bubbles. Or go exploring in the woods. Or pretend we are going on a lion hunt.  

I’ll miss when you ask me to cuddle with you. When I have a million things I need to do but stop and lay by you and hold your hand.  

I’ll miss you begging me to play superheroes as we see if good guys or bad guys win.   And the way you smile when the good guys do. I’ll miss the little moments each day that you give me. The laughter in the bathtub. The nighttime routine of snuggling up in bed, as we read about space or trucks or PJ Masks.  

I’ll miss the way only I can hold you when you scrape your knee. Or when you still take my hand down the stairs. Or your smudged face from devouring a messy, melting popsicle. So no stranger. I won’t miss the meltdowns.   

But I will miss so much more. As these little babies are growing up and becoming their own person. Oh how I’ll miss a lot of these sweet moments.  

Just maybe next time I’ll remember to do clicklist instead of the trip to the store :)