We spend so much time wishing for growth. When we are young, our desire to grow leads us to say things like “I’m eight and a half.” Somewhere along the way, we stop wishing to grow older and wish for other growth like in our bank accounts or biceps. For those of us who have a chronic illness, we wish for growth in knowledge of how best to care for our illnesses.
Lord knows as parents we wish our kids would grow out of some things. I keep hoping O will grow out of his instant rejection of any directions. I will enjoy it when K grows out of the need for diapers. I will love if A grows out of her anxiety, and if not the cause at least the behaviors of picking herself to the point of constantly needing band aids.
Still, maybe this is simply us as parents forgetting to just enjoy the process. We should laugh when our eight-year-old can squeeze himself into the Halloween costume he wore as a three-year old. We should probably marvel when K at almost four years old is in the 0.05th percentile for height, meaning in an average group of 10,000 children her age, four will be shorter than her.
We should probably even take the time to enjoy the innocence which leads K to want to share her most treasured possession with her mom (J). Seeing her do this reminds me of a speaker I once heard telling parents to treasure everything their child gives them. It may not be a new car, but the odds are it is everything they are capable of giving. I think J realizing this is why she is smiling even as a gross wet pacifier is put in her mouth. I need to remember to enjoy the journey, even if parts of it seem to drag. For even if the hard parts outnumber the great moments, they do nothing to diminish the best parts of living.