I’ve been very tired recently.  It’s not easy juggling two children and housework, as well as trying to find time for my own adult hobbies (such as blogging).  And Lily is now of an age where I can blow her off.  “No, Lily, I’m not going to hold you; I’m too tired.”  “No, Lily, I’m not going to sit on the swing with you; I’m doing the dishes.”  You can’t tell a baby these things because they will just cry.  But a toddler not only understands my words, but I can now enforce my will.

I’ve been feeling a little guilty about that lately.  Then, this morning while I was answering email, this picture showed up on my Google Desktop Photo Gadget:

Ben and Cody looking for Easter Eggs in Deb and Bruce’s backyard.
Approx. 1998 or 1999 when Cody was two or three-years-old

Look how Cody is leaning into his Dad.  At this age, all children want is to be with their parents.  Their world is their parents.

This is Cody now at 11-years-old:

Lily asleep on Cody.
Thanksgiving 2007

Cody no longer goes on Easter Egg hunts with his Dad.  Cody does other fun things with his Dad that older kids do like go to amusement parks, but the little kid stuff is over.

Lily is still very much a little kid.  Lily still wants to snuggle under a blanket with me as I rock her.  And Lily still wants to be right up against my body and have me stroke her hair as she falls asleep.  And Lily still wants me to read her books.  And I have only a finite time in which she will want me to hold her and snuggle her and be right there with her.  And I’m wasting it.

I’m afraid of the future.  I already know that I will miss my children when they grow up.  Thankfully the picture of Cody and Ben gave me a glimpse into my own future, and that tiny peak through the window of time showed me what was important now:  being with my beautiful amazing family.