I Could Swear They Were Here Just A Minute Ago
The following essay was written by Julie (a.k.a. everyday Supergoddess) of wanna-cookie.blogspot.com:
As both of my daughters (the “Demigoddesses,� for those of you who may not already know) have transitioned from grade school to junior high, their interests have migrated away from their old playroom to the rooms where the computer and the TV and the telephone reside. Earrings and lip gloss and portable CD players have become more interesting to them than Legos and Beanie Babies, so their old play area doesn’t see much action any more. But knowing we’d need some extra floor space to accommodate Demigoddess the Younger’s upcoming sleepover birthday party, time seemed right to do some tidying in there.
I had placed Demi the Younger in charge of cleaning up before her party, but after spending a hour a day for a week and a half working on it, she hadn't made much progress. I knew that if it was going to get done, I was going to have to step in. Assuming that the job would take me all of a weekend, and probably part of a second one as well, one Saturday morning I got up early and dug in. After a little while, Demigoddess the Younger joined me, and Demigoddess the Elder followed a little while after that.
Cleaning and organizing that playroom is a task I have performed hundreds, if not thousands, of times in the past. Over and over, again and again, I sorted the same toys into the same buckets and plastic bins, only to find the room, within a day or two, returned to post-nuclear-explosion chaos, six inches deep from wall to wall. This time through, though, as I picked through the Barbie shoes and the Polly Pocket clothes, separating the Betty Spaghetti pieces from the PowerPuff Girls accessories, it occurred to me that it could very well be for the last time.
Together, the three of us filled garbage bag after garbage bag with old school papers, Happy Meal toys and dried out markers. I threw out little hair clips and plastic necklaces, two broken Barbie cars (one of which no longer had wheels), and the remnants of countless half-finished craft projects (the beads… my God the BEADS).
Our chore became a bittersweet archeological expedition, as I unearthed a little pair of battered Reeboks, white with purple trim, that still showed evidence of having been chewed by our first puppy. I think Demigoddess the Younger wore them in the first grade. We found a photo of Demigoddess the Elder posed with her kindergarten teacher, and we found the doll she took with her to the hospital when she was three. Even though the doll’s hair is now a ratted mess, and her dress and cloth body are stained beyond help, I couldn’t bring myself to throw that one out.
In the past, the younger Demi would weep and wail and gnash her teeth over every item I put into the trash. But on this day, she cheerfully tossed out her old playthings, or volunteered to set them aside for Maggie, my niece. The elder Demi, who could previously be counted on to become distracted and start playing with every third item she touched, moved efficiently through her side of the room, putting things on shelves and filling her own garbage bag. There was no yelling. There was no drama. For the millionth time, I realized wistfully that the children who had once treasured this voluminous accumulation of stuff no longer live in my house. Somehow, they disappeared right out from under my nose.
We had already cleared a large portion of the room when I came across a little pair of satiny pink dolly underpants.
“Look,� I said, holding them up. “Somebody’s dolly has lost her undies.�
“Not mine,� answered Demigoddess the Younger. “My dolly doesn’t wear undies.�
“Well,� I said, “Your dolly is a ho.�
Demigoddess the Elder added, “Yeah, your dolly doesn’t even know who her baby daddy is.�
It’s been a long time since anybody made me laugh to the point of tears. As I sat surrounded by their old playthings, wiping my eyes and trying to breathe, it occurred to me that back in the days when I cleaned this room on a more regular basis, those are words I never would have imagined I’d hear coming out of my daughter’s mouth. It also occurred to me that I need to do a better job of monitoring what they’re watching on TV.
Together we plowed through the clutter in record time. By late Saturday afternoon, we had cleared ample space for the sleepover. We’d still need to vacuum the carpet and clean the adjacent bathroom before the party, but we had done enough for one day. As a reward for all their hard work, I treated the Demigoddesses to a PG-13 movie and dinner at Chipotle.
I’ll always miss my messy little girls. I’ll even miss their piles of childhood crap. But these two young women I live with now, they get more perplexing and challenging and funny, more amazingly marvelous, every day.
For any of you parents of young children, my best bit of parenting advice?
Don't blink.
Comments
I am mom to an 18 month old, and I can't believe that much time has gone by already. Thank you for the beautiful post.
Posted by: abogada | March 15, 2006 12:23 PM
Wow, I'm in tears. That was really powerful. And not sad, but remindful. Thank you.
Posted by: Melissa | March 15, 2006 6:30 PM
You're saying there's a life beyond toys? It never occured to me! I guess I expected toys (and BEADS!!!!) to be a part of my life until the kids all go off to college. It never occurred to me that the toys can be gone a good eight years sooner than that.
Posted by: noell | March 15, 2006 6:43 PM
Thank you for the sweet reminder of how quickly this time passes...
Great post!
Posted by: Mary | March 15, 2006 8:49 PM
Best advice ever. Consider it heard, considered and executed.
Posted by: clickmom | March 15, 2006 9:08 PM
I am so with you here. My last baby enters high school in the fall, and we've done this cleanup already. Gone are all the vestages of childhood, and in their place are underwear not fit for ho's, makeup, CD's, and posters of hot guys from the WB. I love having teens, and I love when they say things like "baby daddy". I haven't ever enjoyed my kids as much as I do now, when they are more like compatriots than little people I push from place to place. But like you, I miss those baby moments. You're right, don't blink, people. Just keep those eyes wide open.
Posted by: margalit | March 15, 2006 10:46 PM
Oh my god, that was hilarious! And a wonderful reminder. Thank you.
Posted by: Julie | March 16, 2006 8:49 AM
I LOVE THIS.
Posted by: Dorothy | March 16, 2006 12:25 PM
As my kids are still toddlers, I am up to my eyeballs in dolly's, barbie and crayons. And I'm trying not to blink. Really I am. Great post.
Posted by: Melissa | March 16, 2006 6:25 PM
Wonderful, touching post. I am taping my eyelids open right now...
Posted by: Kris | March 17, 2006 8:17 PM
I loved your post. Like Midlife Mommy, my daughter is also 18 months. How could it possibly have gone so fast already? We're moving and I'm packing away her little baby toys. I don't just want to not blink I want to hold on for dear life.
Posted by: Kathryn | March 18, 2006 1:10 AM
Hi. I read this on Blogging Baby. How right you are. The great-granddaughters I'm raising are 10, 11 and just turned 13 and I could identiry with everything you say.
I can be found by clicking on
granny.
Posted by: ann adams | March 20, 2006 8:43 AM
Wow...I am fighting back tears here at work (shhhh don't tell anyone I'm reading blogs). My daughters are 3 and 1 and it is going by far too quickly. Some days I'm in a hurry for them to grow up and many days I just want to hold on their little girl ways forever.
Posted by: Jamie | March 21, 2006 10:01 AM
KaylaX , I enjoy your blog so much.
Posted by: Kayla | April 26, 2006 11:21 AM
i love the happy meal barbies,i have a lot of them.
if you have more mc donalds barbies mail me please.
mizzutti@hotmail.com
i love this barbies,i look for a e-mail of the barbie happymeal makers,because i want a barbie super flex (like the real barbie super flex) but 19 or 20 cm.it's more funny.
i like blondys but i loke more the whities with blackehaire.
Posted by: mellisa | June 13, 2006 3:01 PM