Growth spurt

The family needed a little 'pick-me-up', so we piled the kids in the car, got a dog-sitter for the night, and headed west about 45 minutes to a hotel with an indoor pool and a breakfast buffet. The kids loved it. They swam with dad, tried out the mini golf course, and we got to eat dinner at Uno's.

As we pulled back into the parking lot, we noticed a big tour bus filled with kids stopped in front of the hotel entrance. Sure enough, a middle school group was bunking at the hotel for the night. It wasn't five minutes after we had gotten the kids in bed that we heard the pre-teen revelry begin. Our room overlooked the pool courtyard, which the group had quickly discovered. Our 7 year old was indignant; "Why do they get to stay up and go swimming?" My response: "When you're in middle school and go on an overnight trip, you can go swimming at night too."

While Dad did bedtime cuddling, I took the baby out on the balcony and watched the group. It was cute - the girls played in the pool, while the boys claimed the hot tub. One brave boy played the hero and ventured into the pool, getting splashed by all the girls for his efforts. Some non-swimmers lingered by the pool, shouting to their friends in the water. Others gathered around the ping-pong table, starting short-lived games. All around, animated smiles, nonstop chatter, shrieks of delight. Their faces were still so young, but their arms and legs were gangly, especially the boys. I watched them for a while, enjoying their joy in their momentary freedom, away from mom and dad and home, testing their (well-supervised) independence. Swimming at night! No parents to obey! All the vending machine drinks and snacks you want! I remember this pseudo-liberation and the bravado that went along with it.

As I stood watching this scene, I thought about my own dear 7 year old and tried to imagine where he would be in this group. Ping-pong? Hot tub? Would he be the one to brave the girls-only pool or would he be on the bench with his friends, eating Doritos and chugging his Coke? What kind of a kid will he be in five years? Will he be the funny one? Will he still like school? Will he maintain his friendships with his girl friends, or will he shun them? Is he going to hit his growth spurt early or be the late bloomer? Will he be as articulate as he is now or withdraw into himself? I felt impatient to know, to figure him out.

I thought all this while nuzzling the milky head of my almost 2-month old. She is holding her big bobble-head up pretty well, and has just recently started to give us tentative smiles. I love it - and loathe it. Every week takes me further from the newborn stage. Every week turns into every month turns into every year...and then she's crawling and walking and talking and she's not a baby anymore. No more gummy smiles, no more tiny fists, no more tiny bodies. I'm not ready for it to end.

And I realize that this is the way life is. I have to give up some good stuff to get some other good stuff. The sleepy newborn gives way to the smiley infant. The gummy smile gives way to the cute little first tooth. The tiny body gives way to the growing girl. The sweet baby gives way to the chattering toddler who gives way to the funny preschooler who gives way to the clever 2nd grader who will eventually give way to the future middle schooler who I can't wait to know.

Bring it on.