You are only eight, but today I wish you had a cell phone.
This has been a hard week of getting out the door and off to school. We’ve been later and slower than usual. The added stress of rushing has left us both a little frazzled, and it’s left me a bit grumpy.
You are so full of life! You have so much joy in waking up to a new day. You are excited to rush off to school, to friends, to learning, to your teacher. Part of me aches that you are gone so much of the day. You are rushing through childhood at breakneck speed and I just want to slow it all down. I want to savor the moments we have together in the morning.
And yet, for the third morning this week, our last precious moments together were filled with grumpy misunderstandings. All I wanted was to get to you and hug and kiss you before you left. All you wanted was to get out the door to catch the bus. And yet, rushing to get your little sister’s back pack ready, and hoping the boys didn’t wake up got in the way of me connecting with you.
And so I wish you had a cell phone so I could send you a text. An apology. A reminder that I really do love you. 2:30 seems so far away to be able to hug you and make amends for this morning. By then this morning will be a faded memory, hardly even a thought. And yet, I’m worried that so many mornings, though consciously forgotten, will subconsciously affect our relationship. There just seems to be so much to do that sometimes what we really want gets crowded out by what others need.
So today, I’ll double up on making happy memories and focusing on connecting. Let’s make cookies and pumpkin muffins together. Deal? I hope so!
I love you everyday!