In the moment

willow flower

I keep saying, “I’m not sure that I can love you any more than I do right now, at this exact moment”. And yet, the moment always passes, and my heart grows bigger and more capable of love with every passing hour.

You continue to amaze me, my fifteen month old miracle. I want to document every single bit of your development, yet I am so busy living each moment fully with you that I do not get a chance to record even a fraction of it. Our time together is so limited now that you’re in daycare. I want to squeeze every delicious drop out of every second that we get to spend together.

I want to remember that you said “up-a-tair” (up the stairs) every time you saw a set of stairs and decided to climb them this week. I want to remember that you said “up-pea” (up, please) when you wanted daddy to pick you up today. I want to remember that you called dogs “wuh wuh” (ruff, ruff), called cats “meow”, and over-generalized the word “meow” to mean any animal in the book we read tonight that happened to have four legs. I want to remember the way you said “my, my, my” for all of the things you wanted to hold in the car, but then clearly said “NO MY” when I offered you something you did not want. I want to remember you grinning up at me with a cup of soy milk shouting “Jeer!” (Cheers) and begging me to clink your cup one last time. I want to remember the “hi” and “bye” you used with meaning to greet and bid farewell to loved ones and strangers alike. I want to remember the breathy way you sang a little song while you played with your blocks “dee, dah… dee, dah…”.

I want to remember how you lay on your belly, zooming your cars on the carpet and giggling with delight at the way the trains attached to one another. I want to remember how you insisted on sitting IN the rice sensory bin.  I want to remember how you shook with excitement every time you saw daddy fill up your water table. I want to remember how you climbed on top of the sandbox and coffee table and did your victory dance at the top of each (while I silently panicked inside). I want to remember how gentle and loving you were with your cats, and how you giggled when Hana licked your toes or fingers. I want to remember how you pulled off your socks and shoes in the car on the ride to daycare every morning, and excitedly shouted “Dada! Dada!” every day when we were a few blocks away from Daddy’s work. I want to remember how you exerted your independence, tested boundaries, experienced frustration when challenges were overwhelming, and were able to fully and powerfully pour out your feelings with your voice and your whole body.

I want to save up all of these little pieces and store them in my head and my heart. I want to fill myself up with these experiences and not take a single one of them for granted. I won’t let life pass us by. Time is fleeting. Even during the long nights of teething and illness, I won’t wish any of it away.

Thank you for choosing us to be your parents, Willow Mei. It is a privilege and an honour that we do not take lightly. If I ever stop remembering to be in the moment with you, please find a way to remind me to come back to the present, to cherish every second of the gift of time that we have together.



willow sensory bin