The slow movement of gliding in the rocking chair with my son snuggled around me resting his head on my shoulder, is a moment I wish I could play in slow motion.My son is two years old now, and he likes to rock in the rocking chair with me, until he realizes that if we rock together, he is bound to fall asleep. Then he’s not so keen on rocking.
It feels like yesterday that my daughter and I would rock together in the chair. She would always snuggle up in my arms until she fell asleep. Now, she is five, and barely likes to snuggle unless its on her terms.
It’s the sweet moments that I wish could last forever. I wish I could slow them down so that every second would feel like a lifetime. I sometimes wonder why these moments seem to go by in the blink of an eye, and the sour moments seem to last forever.
I love that my kids are verbal, for the most part. Hearing their voices is always sweet until I begin to hear, “Mom, Micah did….” and “Mom, Mia…” Then comes the crying and the screaming, and I realize that the sourness has arrived. The sweet voices become the high pitched screams back and forth, and in those moments I wish I could bury my head under pillows to dull out the noise.
If only I could fast forward the tantrums, the screaming, and the protests, and play the sweet moments in slow motion. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel like my kids are growing up so fast. But all in all, I suppose this is what makes life whole. Sweet and sour go hand in hand, no matter how much we may want to avoid it. Even in the sour moments of life, the sweetness has a way of seeping in.