Tuesday, March 27, 2018

The More Things Change...

I'm attempting to write everyday in March.Today is post 27 of 31.

Today I thought a lot about that old adage, the more things change, the more they stay the same. So much of who I am has remained consistent over the years. Today I sat in the dentist waiting room as Luke had his six month check-up and I read, just as I have since I was a kid. On our drive there and back I blared Pearl Jam's Ten, much as I did back in high school. When faced with Easter candy to purchase for the boys, I immediately grabbed my favorites - solid chocolate eggs.

However, time marches on and things do change. I can see that in my boys. When faced with a thirty minute car ride to Champaign, they no longer ask to watch a DVD or bring toys to occupy their time. As I ran errands today, Luke stayed in the car watching YouTube or texting friends. There was no hand held in mine as we raced across the streets, looking both ways, and squeezing each other's hands three times to represent I Love You over and over again. At one point today I looked over at his profile in the car and his dark brown eyes looked back. If I go back far enough, I can remember back fifteen years to the first time I held him. How are we here already?

Knowing I need to treasure every moment, I asked if Luke wanted to grab lunch before returning to Monticello. He quickly agreed and asked to get sushi. I think the waitress was a bit in shock as he ordered a plate of vegetable dumplings and four different sushi rolls. My boy, he certainly does like to eat. Luke isn't the chattiest of kids, never has been, but it was an awesome morning just the same.

Returning home, Luke headed to track practice and I grabbed Liam to go help my mom move some furniture. I was lamenting in my head, and my heart, how parenting changes so much. The relationship we have with our kids flies by and they are so anxious to grow up while we stand by, wishing time would slow just for a moment. At that moment Liam and I were trying to pull a box spring out of my uncle's pick-up truck and bring it to the garage. I heard my dad shout, "Hold up. You will hurt your back." I turned around grinning as he tried to push me out of the way so he could grab the box spring instead. He chastised me, trying to help, while I pointed out that his knee was just replaced a month ago and this was not happening. In the back of my mind I thought of the fact that forty-four years in, my dad is still trying to take care of me, that I'm still his little girl. 

Hmm. Maybe things don't need to change so quickly after all.