I was bathing Lia today and found myself looking forward to the convenience that comes when Baby is able to sit up on her own. Lia is still 4 months and flops around, requiring support and the art of 1-hand bathing. “Then I’d be able to play with her, I’d be able to do more during her bath time with her” I rationalized.
I was living in the future.
I suppose its normal to look forward to who our children would grow up to become, how life would be different (or easier), how much more freedom we’d be able to enjoy, or simply being able to do the things we’re not able to do right now.
Later that night, it took me some time to fall asleep. I wanted to hug something. I wanted to hug her. I watched her sleeping soundly in her cot on my left. How I wished I could hug her to sleep. I missed the days we’d both fall asleep with her on my chest. She hates that now. She’ll squirm and protest. Sigh, “all grown up at 4 months old now” I lamented.
Here I was now living in the past.
You know what though? I have no regrets. I have had profound moments with her sleeping on me when she was just a few weeks old. I’d look down at her. One day, I thought, she’d no longer fit on my chest. One day further down the road, she’d probably cringe at the idea of hugging me.
The here and now with her moved me to tears.
“Better stay here with her now where she needs me,” in the present, not the past, not the future. I want to have a future with no regrets, and that thought often brings me back cherishing what we have going now, even if it’s 1-handed baths.