To All Mothers

Weren't those short-lived days when your children were babies up to four years old really precious to you

I'm referring to the stages of walking and talking, exploring and experimenting, and the part where they just couldn't do enough for you.

I was telling a woman how positively helpful my son was around the house, and she just waved that off, saying, "He'll quit in a month or two and then he'll never help you again."

If that was to be true, I decided to cherish the moments.

Both my son and daughter went through the helpful stage, and it was delightful.

My baby son could even drive the car when the diapers were running low and he got a craving for corn chips and strained peas on a Saturday night.

He had his own set of keys (plastic) as a toddler, and he'd drag his daddy's sandals to the front door, step into them, reach up with his keys and "lock" the door for the night, any old time of the day he thought of it.









When baby sister came along, big brother climbed up on the stool, threw his three year old 
hands into the sudsy water, and helped wash the bottles for her. He had a tiny brush and a big brush, and he labored like a pro.




Baby sister grew tall enough to put all the clean cutlery away, by tossing it up and over the lip of the drawer when she was only two. All those forks and knives and spoons landed somewhere in there, and when she was done, she shoved the drawer shut with two little hands and marched off to bake a sand pie or two for dinner.

When it was green bean season, nobody could snap off the ends and toss those beans into the pot and on the floor and into her tiny waiting mouth like little sister could.

They both folded laundry and dumped it on the right beds, in a big old heap.

They knew how to keep me company, when I so desperately needed a nap and laid down to snooze on a bed with them watching me like a hawk.

And they could tell stories like nobody else when it was time to let the young imaginations click in. Like the massive green dinosaur with no teeth that walked on two legs down Gulf Blvd some days, a friendly dude who was lonely and needed a friend. And they both saw it. Oh, yes.

But the days when helping around the house was no longer a good thing came all to soon, and I kissed goodbye that stage, just like I knew I needed to.

Still, though...weren't those precious days heaven sent, all you mothers out there?