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The Wonder Years

by Arlene Pellicane

I just laughed out loud.  My 14-month-old daughter came stumbling around the corner, pushing her little plastic shopping cart.  It caught me by surprise because she’s been sick with a virus called ”roseola infantum“ all week.  Does that sound threatening or what?  Her activity has been limited to pointing and saying ”this!“ in a tiny, hoarse voice.  But now her wobbly legs and wide grin tell me she’s on the mend.

It’s just one of many moments of joy with my baby.  But I must admit.  If I’m not careful to smile and pause, these magical moments can pass without notice.  When I’m changing my baby’s diaper while hearing my toddler say, ”Mommy, watch this!“ for the 100th time before breakfast, I can get a bit numb. Motherhood is hard work, especially when your children are small and need your constant help to eat, play, sleep, and of course, go to the bathroom.  But I’m told over and over to enjoy these years because they go so fast.  And I believe it. 

So I choose to cherish each stage of motherhood.  The busyness of washing bottles, sippy cups, finding toys, cooking oatmeal and doing laundry won’t last long.  When else am I going to have tiny feet to put little socks on, and round Buddha bellies to wash in the bathtub?  This is my special time with my kids.  And when strings turn to wings and my children become adults, I want them to remember home as a place of joy.  

Of all the jobs I’ve had so far in my life, motherhood is by far my favorite.  Where else can you radically touch someone’s life, one diaper change at a time?  Of course there are days I wish I could leave ”my work“ at the office and take a break.  But when I’m overwhelmed by the dishes in the sink or my untouched to-do list, I will think about my baby pushing around her little plastic shopping cart.  Joy abounds in the smallest and biggest of things during the wonder years, and I don’t want to miss a moment. 

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