Oftentimes Elysha and I see or hear our kids do something and can't believe what just happened.
A few from this week.
I picked up Charlie, who is five years-old, from his hip hop class on Tuesday. From the waiting room, I heard his class end, then Charlie and a couple kids lingered for a bit before finally emerging into the waiting room.
"What were you doing?" I asked.
"Just chillin' and being funny, Dad," he said.
He's five. I'm still not cool enough to say words like that.
Yesterday morning, I managed to snap a photo of Charlie and Clara saying good morning to each other. Clara had been awake for at least an hour (she's like her Daddy) but Charlie had just ambled downstairs:
Thank goodness for the speed of a photography on phones today.
Later on that same morning, Elysha sent me this text:
We see these things and hear these things and often want to pinch ourselves. We're so blessed.
Just in case you're a parent of a child who is older than my kids and you suddenly feel the need to jump and say something like:
"Just wait until they become teenagers," or "Enjoy these moments now because it only gets harder," or "This is all well and good, but start saving for college because it will be a fortune" or "They won't always love each other like they do now..."
Don't. Stop. Silence those stupid thoughts.
It takes a special and unfortunate breed of cynicism to try to spoil moments like these for proud parents with your assurances of possible doom and gloom.
It also takes a special and unfortunate breed of myopia and self-absorption to assume that the future path of every child will be exactly the same as your child's own path.
Sure, there will be times when our kids are decidedly less sweet and more challenging. That was true three days ago, and it will be true three days from now, too. But we choose to embrace the beauty of these moments whenever and wherever we can find them and not sully them with anyone's inexplicable and incessant need to rain on our parade.
Our kids were lovely and sweet and funny this week. That is what I am choosing to hold in my heart.