Cade loves books and the outdoors, and so although I don’t REALLY want to read, “The Hiccupotamus” or “Bear Snores On” one more time, I do. And even though it is consistently 90+ degrees around here I let Cade grab my hand and drag me from my rocker in the shade so he can wander down to the blistering sidewalk and play with grass trimmings. Inwardly, I sometimes stifle a groan when I’ve already read about Jonah three times in a row and he brings over “The Little Blue Truck.” And no, I do not enjoy waddling around in 90 degree weather achy and sweaty and short of breath. BUT, inwardly, I’m also thrilled. I don’t want his pleasure in playing outdoors or his fascination with books to ever end. One day, I promise myself, one day this will definitely be worth the boring repetition and the sticky sweat filled last trimester.
These are a few things I can’t WAIT to say to my boys when they get older:
“No reading at the table.”
“One more chapter and then it’s bedtime.”
“You have ten more minutes before it’s time to come in.”
“I know you’ve already showered once, but you’re covered in mud.”
“If you try to build that without dad’s supervision you’re staying inside for the rest of the day.”
“Put the book down when I’m talking to you.”
“Yes, you can bring a book as long as you sit quietly.”
One day I’ll be able to watch them play from the shade and they won’t need me to hold their hand. One day I’ll be doing dishes in a quiet house because everyone else has a book to read. There will soon be story time, and swim lessons, and library cards, and sports games, and I’ll go from active participant to sideline cheerleader and facilitator (read: chauffeur). Then they’ll be gone to write their own stories and explore more of the world and I don’t think for a second I’ll begrudge a single day of letting my son with a soggy mulch covered onsie snuggle in my lap to read a board book one more time.