Being Present: thoughts on parenting

I have an iPad. It's a great tool for a counselor. There are so many ways it has helped me in my practice. An added bonus is that my kids have a "computer" to play with that is pretty easy for me to monitor. The drawback of this arrangement is that they have figured out how to take pictures and make movies on it.

I mean literally thousands of pictures and videos.  One daughter took 189 pictures of just her right hand. It's kind of fun to scroll through them.  Many of the pictures are too distorted to actually be of any value. Of course, if you and I are facebook friends, you've had the opportunity to see some of the videos.

Today, as I was preparing for my daily sessions I hooked the iPad upto my computer and began to look at the new pictures. Some made me laugh. Some I couldn't quite figure out.

One made me stop dead in my tracks and swallow really hard. There was a picture of my daughter and my friend's daughter. My baby didn't look like a baby anymore. She looked entirely too grown up.

Lately, I've been more aware of this truth. My girls are growing up.  The day is probably coming when they won't want to spend as much time with me as they do now. I want them to stay this small longer. I want them to need me longer.

Of course, I really don't. That's not actually the answer. That's a recipe for emotionally stunted adults who don't know how to function.

What I want is to soak up every minute I have with them. To gaze on each smile, and catch the glint in each eye. What I need to do is be present every moment that I am with them.

My time with them is limited. Today I will see very little of them. There isn't much that I can do about that. Tomorrow, I will have the opportunity to make them a part of my entire day. They can help me weed the garden, mow the grass (mostly just riding in the wagon behind me) and I can play with them. Or I can choose to do other things that need to be done. I can be distracted by the pressures of life.

Here's hoping I choose to be present with my girls. In fifteen years, I doubt I will remember the chore that I didn't get done today. I doubt that I will remember the stress of today.

I am quite certain I will miss my girls. Tomorrow I will have the memories that we create today.