On Saturday, my children — now five and seven — had ice skating lessons, and a friend of ours suggested we meet early so our kids could enjoy a hot chocolate together. About twenty minutes into our meet-up, I realized that our children were off playing together, and that we had been sitting by ourselves, having an adults-only conversation, and that I wasn’t distractedly wondering about my children’s well-being. I paused to comment on the moment — how completely remarkable it was!
These milestones are often invisible. In fact, most milestones in motherhood have seemed invisible, or in some way fluid, or indistinct. Many of them have tiptoed by, unannounced. I was just thinking (read: torturing myself) that one night, I rocked my son to sleep, and the next I didn’t, and I can’t remember when that night was. And so to recognize a landmark like this is no small thing. While I might feel soft about the passing of time, and tender about the fact that my son’s rocking days are long gone, these thresholds are also achievements worth trumpeting: we have gotten here after so many years of holding babies, then supervising them while they put everything in their mouths and teeter perilously around their worlds, then refereeing their interactions with other children. Put differently: each new phase is in fact a composite of hundreds of tiny gestures of love — a patchwork of the bandaids you have applied, and the grapes you have halved, and the tears you have dried, and the “nos” you have repeated, and the tiny pants you have laundered and put back in the drawer! And now we are deposited here, in this strange new moment of independence (for both parent and child). I know I do not need to caveat the following sentiment in any way in this enclave, and yet still I want to note: I have never wished away the age of my children; each phase has born its own treasures and challenges. In fact, I often miss my children at their younger ages. And I will also say: this stage right now feels great. Suddenly, we are making last-minute plans to get lunch together — ho hum, just throw on the coats and go! — and working as a family on 1000 piece puzzles in the morning, and the kids are calling “I’m going to play with the neighbors outside!” over their shoulders and I am not hastily interrupting myself to throw on a coat to sprint after them. Everything hangs a bit more free-form and baggy. No nap schedules, no diaper bags, no emergencies if the kids aren’t in bed by their usual bedtimes. And yet the kids are still kids, and still willingly hold my hand and ask me to read them books and explain the world to them.
One day last week, probably distracted by picking up the tornado of clothes and toys on his floor, I must have forgotten to give my son “his morning hug.” Normally, I rouse him from sleep, draw his blinds, and say: “Can I have my morning hug?” And we snuggle for a minute, me marveling at the perfect spray of freckles across his delicate nose, and his cornsilk hair, and the way his clear pond eyes dart around with joy and curiosity from the second he opens them in the morning, and him asking casually whether the future exists. Anyhow, that evening, my son asked me at bedtime: “Can we do the usual things tomorrow?” Puzzled, I asked what he meant. “My morning hug,” he replied, matter-of-factly. “You forgot today.” I’ve been carrying that around weepily since. Just — the ongoing shock and privilege of being needed in this way, of being depended on for love. The precious narrowness of his days, where one missing hug sets his tapered world askew. The fact that “morning hug” is the equivalent of “normal” for him, full-stop. I make many mistakes as a mother (yesterday’s edition: snapping when my daughter spilled an entire, just-opened box of peanut butter crackers, including the crumbly bits at the bottom, all over the backseat of the car — annoying to be sure, but why did I do that?! No use crying over spilled milk; it was an accident; etc! So demoralizing when I realize I’ve let my own storm wet my children!) but “not showing enough affection” is, I now know, not among them.
Anyhow, someone once told me that the ages of 5-10 are “the golden years” of parenting. I’m seeing what they mean. My children are independent in relieving ways but still sweet enough to crave my arms. I was thinking yesterday, though, that maybe we never stop craving our parents’ arms — we just experience it in different ways. And this sentiment reassured me. For example, just this past Monday, my Dad texted me: “Beautifully written blog today.” The way this filled me up — ! I guess you are never too old to luxuriate in the encouragement and reassurance of your parents. Across my entire jagged career, the two moments that have mattered the most to me were, first, when Mr. Magpie came to watch me deliver a talk in front of 200 people at a design conference, and I, frankly, crushed it, and afterwards, Mr. Magpie had a hard time saying anything — but the way he quietly mooned after me with soft eyes said it all; and second, when my Dad wrote me, out of the blue, “So proud of you doing what you love and what you are great at.” I have that saved in a special place to look at any time I doubt myself. Perhaps it is “cringe” to share these intimate moments of praise so baldly here, but I mean to point the arrow not at my achievement but at the divinity of being seen and celebrated by the people you respect most in this world. And, as a mother, how gorgeous it is to know that even when our babies are out in the world, making decisions and mistakes and careers and meals (already, such a strange and delightful phenomenon to observe my daughter pouring herself a bowl of cereal just because she feels like it — this little human, answering to herself!), that they will still need us. If only to be the soft landing place for their frustrations, the full stock of their favorite flavors of Spindrift when they are home, and the unprompted text: “I’m so proud of what you’re doing.”
As we say, friends — onward —
Post-Scripts.
+God, we are lucky to be children.
Shopping Break.
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+Quince is slow-dripping some truly incredible deals over the coming weeks — today, this mongolian cashmere polo sweater is under $60 and this cashmere wrap is $25 off. The latter is a great gift.
+I had been eyeing this pinecone wreath forever and finally snagged while 25% off! If you think about it, a good investment as we now won’t need to purchase a new wreath each year.
+I think about half of us ordered these slippers last week (they really are worth it, sorry — I live in mine; will keep my eyes out to see if I can find them on sale this week but I find Ugg never goes on sale), but I have also been hearing good things about these Bombas Sunday slippers. COMFORT20 gets us 20% off. But this $15 pair is a good look for less!
+Back to Bombas for a second…I am loving their holiday prints! Like these and these??? I have both in my cart for myself, along with these for my daughter and these for my son, especially since many of you listed these as a RWI.
+Just ordered this puzzle for my son. He loves (!) and is quite good at 1000 piece puzzles at this point. He will sit and work on them for hours! (He’s also a Lego lover, so this is a great “two-fer.”)
+RUN — this fabulous tartan maxi skirt ($159) will for sure sell out.
+I know many of you have asked for “boots you can actually wear in the winter” — e.g., waterproof/water-resistant/etc. We’ve already covered the Freda Salvador Brooke boot (25% off) thoroughly, but I also just discovered that Dolce Vita has an entire line of “H20” friendly boots at great prices. I especially like the look of these in the army green. I really love this brand — you may have noticed that I’ve worn their mesh Cadels heavily this season. (They were in fact one of two pairs of flats I brought with me to Italy — they go with everything and add such great contrast / femininity! They are also supremely comfortable. I wore them all day long on foot in Florence. They are “inspired by” these Loeffler Randalls, which I also own in a different fabric, and are also SUBLIMELY comfortable right out of the box.)
+One of my pen-obsessed friends was just raving about these new “paintbrush tip” Le Pens! Must order to try…
+Oo! Elemis is offering 25% off sitewide. I feel like they never include their cleansing balms in their promotion, but they are right now. The rose one is divine. I actually gave it to my mom last year or the year before for Christmas — the most luxurious way to take the day off. I also really like their “resurfacing” line when I feel my skin is looking dead and needs a good “buffing” — specifically these pads and this face wash. (Also, if you spend $150, you get a luxe gift with purchase.)
+Quince magic — this satin slip dress (in the “wine tasting” color) with this sweater (in the burdundy) layered over top.
+For my friends with Squishmallow-obsessed girls.
+Anthro’s holiday section…meep! These coupes in the tree motif! This bow platter!
+Obsessed with this wool scarf.
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