Sunday, November 11, 2012

Tiny Socks


                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.
               
                 

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