The snow on Saturday was pretty easy for me, a work-at-home mom who didn't have to go out until the late afternoon. Our new plow guy rules. Not only did he plow and sand, his son shoveled the snow from behind our cars and even moved our trash cans out of the giant snow pile. Very impressive!
My four year old can put on his own gloves (mostly) and even put on his own snow pants (mostly).
Accomplishments he notices but that I celebrate silently. He is getting bigger and bigger.
When my first child was little, I adored every new skill she demonstrated and mourned at the same time. I felt like I was always going to miss the gurgling smiles or baby talk words. Every advance was tinged with the loss of the adorable baby-ness that I so loved. Then it was the loss of the adorable toddler-ness, and on and on.
I remember speaking with a friend whose child was already a teenager. I was telling her how much I will miss all of the cuteness. "I just love how wonderful this age is," I said.
She replied, "All of it is wonderful. Every age brings something amazing."
And it is right. Now that my oldest daughter is 12, I can say that seeing her come into her own skin as a young lady is just as gratifying as cuddling her when she was just learning to speak. And as my son learns to be self-sufficient, I celebrate his independence and look forward to fully enjoying, with no sadness, each of his phases of development.