As a
teacher, some of the most special moments come when I get to see parents
sharing exciting moments with their children. Poetry readings, awards
assemblies, graduations, the day the class leaves for camp, music performances,
sporting events. There are smiles, hugs, ruffling of hair. There are teary
eyes, clasped hands, cameras, “let’s take another one just in case”. Kids with
huge smirky grins, sometimes toothless, sometimes all tooth, always beaming
happiness because they can’t miss their parents’ adoring expression of pride
and admiration for one of the most important people in the world. This little
person they brought here with hope and expectations and dreams and it’s in
these moments that glowing, admiring parents get just a little confirmation
they’ve done something right and their smiles are unconcealable as the
classroom or cafeteria or gymnasium fills with unquantifiable paternal love.
They soak it all in, give all they have, hang on tight and don’t miss a moment
of this precious gift of childhood. It’s a beautiful thing.
In
anticipation of the birth of our son in February, friends who are parents of
two boys, gave us, among many other things, two boxes of clothes; one for 0-3
months, one for 3-6. “You’ll end up with a lot of clothes for 0-3 months,
people love giving those as gifts,” he told us, “but your son will grow out of
them so fast, and then you’ll be like, ‘Now what does he wear?’ So, you’ll
probably want to hold onto a lot more of the 3-6 month sizes.” I thanked him for the heads up and put the
boxes, along with a Pack & Play, swing, backpack into the trunk. We got
home, I unloaded them in the garage and that’s where they sat for a week.
Today,
Alecia and I went through the boxes. They were filled with onesies of pastel
shades of blues and greens. Patterns of happy baseball players, dinosaurs, bears,
farm animals, Winnie-the Pooh, puppies, monkeys, and cars.
And then, at the bottom of the box,
there were socks. So many pairs of tiny socks, not much bigger than thimbles,
all neatly folded like little knit cotton balls and I couldn’t help but think
of the tiny feet that will fill those tiny socks in such a short amount of time.
The adventures that will be shared from the little kicks we are feeling now to
first steps to the first day of school to poetry readings, awards assemblies,
graduations, camp, music performances, and sporting events.
I know
there will be sleepless nights and early mornings, that priorities will change,
that money will get tighter, and that there will be uncountable dirty diapers.
There will be battles about bedtime, about what to wear, and what to eat. But as
we carefully refolded the thumb-sized socks I couldn’t help but think how we
will also get to be like so many parents that I’ve seen throughout my career
filled with all that admiration and pride, and how we will be the ones with the
shaky camera and unhideable smiles holding onto priceless moments just as long
as we can, experiencing the deepest feeling of love for this precious little
person, our son, whose feet will soon fill those tiny socks.
