Stay Small... Just A Little Longer

I took the kids to a park yesterday. I sat on a bench and let the world pass by. Sun on my face, I watched the kids slide down the slides, cross the monkey bars and climb carefree. I (we) needed just 30 minutes or so to unplug and recharge.

About fifteen minutes after we arrived, a group of mostly 10 year-old kids came strolling up to the park. Loud. Not obnoxious but definitely cool beyond their years and seeking attentive stares from anyone who would offer.

Everyone noticed. A few mothers scooted a little closer. Ears on high alert for foul language and inappropriateness. Mother hens guarding their little chicks.

Mr Blue Eyes was oblivious. The double twisting slide was the focus of every inch of his being. Up the stairs and down the slide. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

But she noticed.

She noticed like a car accident had just happened in front of her eyes. She noticed like the sun had suddenly fallen from the sky and the earth stopped spinning. She noticed and she was transfixed. Frozen, except for the silent rising and falling of her chest and the nervous fidgeting in her fingers. She watched them, frozen in place and eyes wide with curiosity, much like the first time individuals watched a television set on display.

I watched her for a minute and then called her back to me. Breaking her fixation. She sat down next to me on the bench and watched them some more. Impulsive, she turned her small young face to me and sheepishly admitted, "Mommy. I feel like I'm 10."

I half smiled back to her and honestly answered, "But you aren't honey. You are 7."

She shrugged and returned a half smile. "I know..." and she returned her attention to that mystical vision of all things 10. 

I ran my hand over her small back and lovingly squeezed her slender shoulder. She smiled up at me with love. She left my side and walked blindly about the playground. Eyes again never leaving them. She sat down and just... watched.

For another fifteen minutes, she just watched them.

Mr Blue Eyes climbed the stairs and slid down the slide.

My heart ached to bring her back. Turn her cheek and be in love with her 7 year-old self that is right now. Keep her present and grounded. 

But she watched them.

I prayed for my two loves. Prayed that they wouldn't rush growing up. Please play with dolls and matchbox cars, just a little bit longer. Please play dress-up and make-believe, just a little bit longer. Please dream and sing and be carefree, just a little bit longer.

I vowed to hold them tight for even longer. Rock them in my lap even when they don't quite fit for even longer. Snuggle more and let them fall asleep on my shoulder for even longer. Read them stories for even longer. Whisper before bedtime about what dreams we will have for even longer. Be silly and giggle for even longer.

But never stop loving, living, smiling and laughing.