I’m Gonna Miss These Days
Remember the other day? My post called It’s Been One Of Those Days?
A couple of my commenters, who have children who are all grown up, told me about how I’m going to miss these days.
Later that day I was trying to talk on the phone and Hailey kept trying to grab the phone out of my hand to say “Hey-Yo” (Hello). And I caught myself thinking, “Why can’t I have a moment to talk on the phone in peace?
At dinner time Hailey didn’t want to eat and made a huge mess with her food. After I got her cleaned up and I sat down to eat my cold food I caught myself thinking, “Why don’t I ever get to eat a warm dinner anymore?”
And all of a sudden- the comments I had gotten and the thoughts I was having- reminded me of this poem. And it made me cry. So, I had to share it with you (so you can cry too).
No More Oatmeal Kisses
–January 29, 1969
One of these days, you’ll shout, “Why don’t you kids grow up and act your age!”
And they will.
Or, “You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do . . . and don’t slam the door!”
And they won’t.
You’ll straighten up the boys’ bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you’ll say out loud, “Now I want it to stay this way.”
And it will.
You’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn’t been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you’ll say, “Now, there’s a meal for company.”
And you’ll eat it alone.
You’ll say, “I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?”
And you’ll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more dandelion bouquets. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespins under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year’s Eve. Washing clothes only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn’t ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings or silly school plays where your child is a tree. No car pools. No blaring radios or forgotten lunch money. No one washing her hair at 11 o’clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying, “Why don’t you grow up?”
and the silence echoing, “I did.”
….Erma Bombeck
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Oh! I don’t want my baby to grow up! I want to cherish each and every mess, each sleepless night, even each temper tantrum, because she is a precious gift from God.
Oh, you made me cry. Stop that!
Oh, that made me cry. I’m sitting here thinking of it all. The best and hardest years are in front of us aren’t they…and yet I too secretly wish when he can clean up aafter himself! Ok…I’m gonna read something funny now! Thanks!
*Sniff* I think that was mean.
And that’s the best way to eat pasta! With Exuberance!!!
Except maybe liver. Blech.
Oh, heavens, that’s the best way to eat anything.
I love that picture of Hailey! I had to show David (who was upset that Nayja made a mess while eating a a bowl of chocolate pudding by herself)!
I always loved this poem and look at my kids now and think about what was in the past and wonder what is yet to come.
Cry??????????? You made me sob with the little gulps in between.
well thank you very much…i am going to have myself a cry now….
sniff…they grow so fast!
This made me cry.
I can get so frustrated at my Bubbalu and put him to bed just fed up with being a Mama…
…then an hour after he’s asleep I am tiptoeing into his nursery to watch him sleep because I miss him.
That picture is priceless and so damn funny and so damn cute. Thanks for reminding me to enjoy these times.
that is a great picture! And a great poem.
i love this poem every time i read it.
i can never be reminded of this enough.
You have no idea how much I needed to read this right now. Thank you!
Sometimes I miss my children as they used to be. They are all grown adults now and I love who they are today. I would never go back even if I had the chance yet sometimes I long to hold them and smell them and feel that closeness just one more time and I know it will never happen… mmmmm. Erma Bombeck was a master at describing emotions.
Enjoy your children now and appreciate them at every stage of their lives… they’ll be gone before you know it!