This week, I came across a reel from screenwriter and father Dillon White in which he talks about “the things your children will miss” when they grow older. I wept big, fat tears I didn’t know I needed to shed. (Proceed at your own caution!). At the beginning of the reel, White succinctly describes how and why the well-intentioned comments “you’re going to miss this” and “enjoy this time while your children are young” — while undoubtedly prophetic — are unhelpful and even blunt, unfeeling, when you are in the weeds of rearing young children, and how they can often trigger a cycle of guilt. I have certainly felt that way: chastised for admitting the unglamorous multiplicities of motherhood, and often the censure is self-sourced! I will beat myself up for losing my patience; I will agonize over why I was so brusque with my son as soon as the door closes and he has trotted off to school. Oh, it is a heartburning gymnastic, this motherhood. It can feel as though you are doing nothing right: not playing enough with your children, not giving them the right foods, not saying all the things you need to say, not keeping the house organized and accessible for them, not responding as you should, not balancing it all well enough.
Deep breaths.
White talks midway through the reel about switching from a “you’re going to miss this” headspace to a “they’re going to miss this” one, and how that changes the dynamic. How you go from “oh God, I need to make every minute count and hold myself accountable for everything and nail the balance of it all constantly” to “I think this will matter to my son, and I’m glad I’m doing this for him right now.” And so it becomes (in my mind) more about looking for the peaks, and climbing those, rather than seeking a constant, impossible elevation of performance. I shared this with a fellow parent, and he responded that even flipping the language from “you’re going to miss this” to “they’re going to miss this” felt challenging to him — that it still feels as though we’re erasing the parent’s whole self from the equation, and not giving ourselves elbow room to just be. I knew what he meant. Both mantras ask a lot of us. Still, White’s version feels a bit easier for me to wrap my hands around, as it’s less “do this now so you don’t regret it later” and more “what will matter to my son in twenty years’ time”? The rubric shifts focuses me.
White also talks specifically about how his four year old son was sick over the weekend and cried out in the middle of the night: “Dad!” and how he went to his boy without any feelings of frustration or fatigue because he saw, immediately, how rare and precious it was that he was the first thing that came out of his child’s mouth when he felt scared, or in pain. He goes on to say how much he would like to be able to call out his own father’s name, and have him come running.
In other words, he saw a gleaming moment in which he could fill a need that would matter to his son for a long time, and he filled it.
Reader, I wept! Both because White was letting some air out of the balloon and also because, my God!, what an incredible gift, to be needed! To be the answering hush, the calm hand on the forehead, the feet running down the hallway in the night.
Which is to say: if, today, we can find one moment in which we do something that we feel matters substantively to our children, that is enough. (We are assuredly filling many more than we think anyhow, just by virtue of our presence and love.) What is one thing I can do today that my children will later miss, and be grateful for? Is it the love note in the lunchbox? The fact that you show up for baseball practice, just to watch? The extra chapter before bedtime because you’re both excited about a book? The dancing in the kitchen to your favorite song? Playing Barbies, or Magna-tiles, or cards? We don’t need to nail everything all the time (and we can’t!), but if we can find one thing that we think will matter to them when they look back in 20 years, there’s the gold.
What do you think?
Post-Scripts.
+Sometimes the work of motherhood is nothing like you imagined.
+On the early days of motherhood, and how they often force you to temporarily retreat from the world. And that’s OK! This time, too, shall pass.
+On building friendships through motherhood.
Shopping Break.
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+Chic and simple raincoat. Also love the ones from Stutterheim (<<several colors on sale!). Tis the rainy season! Which also reminds me that these $31 rain coats are incredible for kids — lined in soft striped jersey. (They remind me of the ones from Petit Bateau, which my children had when they were younger! But I swear these $31 ones are virtually the same!)
+Pretty spring blouse from Anthro.
+Love the fit of these white jeans. Imagine with J. Crew’s chic linen vest!
+Sadly, Amanda Lindroth is closing her gorgeous home decor shop! Everything is 30% off, including already-discounted items, like this fab Birkin basket bag (I own and adore it! A great petite size), these wicker bar stools, and loads of chic table linens. (Discount appears in cart.)
+As we approach pool weather, you might consider ordering one of these terry polos for your husband! Mr. Magpie has two from this brand that he loves. He likes to throw these on when going to/from pool with his swim trunks. (And he has several pairs of Vilbrequin trunks — spendy but very cool. Love this striped pair.)
+Rylee and Cru released the cutest line of play/athletic clothes for kids. Love these patterned bike shorts and leggings!
+This aqua crochet dress is beyond gorgeous.
+As you know, I’m a huge fan of Hanni products for in- and post-shower skin moisturization, but this Osea undaria body butter is incredible, too. I have had this one dry patch on my ankle for – not kidding – years. The undaria body butter actually solved the problem! This stuff is good for super-dry skin. Very thick but does blend in. A magic cream!
+I love reading about how you handle skincare for travel. Lots of different perspectives that run in different directions, but I liked the point that one of you made: buy what you love in small/travel sizes, because the containers actually do matter. Like, I have historically decanted what I need into little travel containers and sometimes this works well, but what about a detangling spray, or shampoo that is irritating to get out of a little tub? I have been thinking more critically about the packaging. Anyway, just noticed that Davines offers a travel set with my favorite shampoo, conditioner, and conditioning/detangling spray. Ordered.
+Cutest little brass task lamp – under $60.