The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008


Where the Time has Gone

One of the most common sentences I hear these days is, “I have to go potty, Mommy.”

We go when she has to go. We go when she doesn’t. We go no matter where we are or what we are doing. Sometimes I hear those words, and I cringe, “Again? Are you sure?”

I also hear, about five times a day, “Mommy, pretend that I’m Cinderella.” This requires that we change clothes into five different outfits because, just in case you have forgotten, Cinderella starts in her night gown, changes into her work rags, wears the pink dress the mice make, dons her blue dress for the ball, and then sports her wedding dress at the end.

Usually I’m facilitating costume changes while balancing a nine-month old on my hip and holding the phone with my shoulder. There have been days when I think that if I have to play the part of the handsome prince one more time, I might die of boredom.

And how many more times do we have to read "Who Pooped in the Park?" I am so incredibly tired of that book that I intentionally hid it so that we simply could not read it before bed again. Lucky me, I have become an expert at deciphering wildlife droppings.

No doubt, the repetition can be tedious and the interests of a three-year old, uninspiring. However, there are those surprising moments when my daughter says or does something that I want to engrain in my memory forever because it strikes me as one of the most beautiful things I’ve heard or witnessed in a long time. Often it happens when I least expect it, during one of our most mundane activities.

Today, it took place while she was sitting on the potty. After impatiently asking her if she was done, she responded, “It’s taking a while...” At first I thought she meant that it was taking a while to finish her business on the toilet.

Then she continued, “It’s taking a while for summer and to plant flowers in spring and for Valentine’s Day with heart cookies and pink sugar, and for my birthday and for getting taller. It’s taking too long. When am I going to get taller?

At that moment, I wanted to freeze her in time so that she would always be my three-year old Samantha with so many simple pleasures to anticipate. It reminded me that there will come a day when she doesn’t want to play Cinderella or read that poop book or have conversations with me while on the potty because some day she will be taller -- so tall that I will lamentably wonder where the time has gone.

By Rebecca Elegant


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