I'm realising that my days around here seem to run together.
Ordinary moments unfold around me daily
and I need to stop and relish in them.
One day, my boys will be out living life
and I will miss these everyday experiences.
So, I am taking the time to document
the simple moments that pass between us.
I'm calling this little collection of memories...
and I need to stop and relish in them.
One day, my boys will be out living life
and I will miss these everyday experiences.
So, I am taking the time to document
the simple moments that pass between us.
I'm calling this little collection of memories...
Koen had his last day of gymnastics last week.
He will start preschool in the fall
and won't be able to attend his class any more.
Here I am again, feeling sentimental about
my little guy growing up and moving on.
It's a theme in my life, I know.
Yet, I can't resist marking the days
as they fly by,
or jump by in this case.
When I made the decision
to wait to send Koen to preschool,
his Mommy and Me gymnastics class
became "school" for him.
He learned so much
about listening and following directions
in that gym.
He spent time with other kids his age
and learned all about
taking turns and sharing.
I learned so much about him too.
When we first started the class,
he was just a wobbly little toddler.
The goal was that he would eventually
do the circuits without my help
and all by himself.
That always seemed like a lofty goal to me when he was younger.
Would he fall without my help?
Could he support his body?
Could he focus?
Would he stay in line to wait for his turn?
Would he clobber the kid next to him?
So many maternal insecurities flooded my mind.
Yet, as we came to the end of the session,
I stepped back with all the
other reluctant mamas.
We watched with amazement as our little ones
did a beautiful job without our help.
He jumped, he flipped, he hung,
he soared without me.
The stamp on his grubby three year old hand
held the proof that he did it!
Oh the pride he felt
to do all those amazing things without his mama.
I swooped him up in a hug
and marvelled at his little reward.
This is just the beginning, sweet boy.
He will start preschool in the fall
and won't be able to attend his class any more.
Here I am again, feeling sentimental about
my little guy growing up and moving on.
It's a theme in my life, I know.
Yet, I can't resist marking the days
as they fly by,
or jump by in this case.
When I made the decision
to wait to send Koen to preschool,
his Mommy and Me gymnastics class
became "school" for him.
He learned so much
about listening and following directions
in that gym.
He spent time with other kids his age
and learned all about
taking turns and sharing.
I learned so much about him too.
When we first started the class,
he was just a wobbly little toddler.
The goal was that he would eventually
do the circuits without my help
and all by himself.
That always seemed like a lofty goal to me when he was younger.
Would he fall without my help?
Could he support his body?
Could he focus?
Would he stay in line to wait for his turn?
Would he clobber the kid next to him?
So many maternal insecurities flooded my mind.
Yet, as we came to the end of the session,
I stepped back with all the
other reluctant mamas.
We watched with amazement as our little ones
did a beautiful job without our help.
He jumped, he flipped, he hung,
he soared without me.
The stamp on his grubby three year old hand
held the proof that he did it!
Oh the pride he felt
to do all those amazing things without his mama.
I swooped him up in a hug
and marvelled at his little reward.
This is just the beginning, sweet boy.
