Banning the What-ifs

One of my biggest parenting flaws is dwelling on "What ifs?". The other day, as I waited impatiently for the Nugget to dress himself in the morning, I felt annoyed. "What if I were a working mom and he were in daycare? I wouldn't allow him time for this nonsense; I would have to help him get dressed or I would be late for work."

But the thing is, I'm a SAHM. There was no day-care drop off, and I'd even cancelled our playdate that morning so I could let him take his time.

Another example - I like to read to the Nugget during his mealtimes. I let him choose the story. Sometimes, he changes his mind, or I choose the story, he pitches a fit. I again catch myself thinking, "What if he had a sibling who wanted a different story? I should read this book just because I want to, despite the yelling, to prepare him for the times he won't get to choose."

But the thing is, we haven't been blessed with our second yet. As an oldest myself, I know there will be many more times when the Nugget will have to succumb to his younger sibling, that he won't get to do what he wants because the baby will need something else. His time as an only is limited, the days are numbered - perhaps ending this week, perhaps ending in 2 years, but whatever the case, it's a short precious window where he is the ruler of his universe.

I want to stop putting ourselves into these imaginary scenarios, to just be calm and enjoy the here and now. To coddle him because he's still so young and there's so much time for him to grow up. To know that while it may feel like an eternity while he's trying to get a sock over all those wiggly toes, someday I'll wake up and his socks will be bigger and stinkier than Hubby's. Someday he won't want me to read stories to him anymore. While he wants my attention, my input, my presence constantly today, someday he'll move out of this house and follow his own path to places unknown. And then I'll really miss these moments. I'll wish I hadn't wished them away or rushed him through a single morning of his childhood.

I hear him stirring, and in a few moments I'll help the Nugget greet the morning. For now, life is moving at a snail's pace. And today I am grateful. Lord, help me slow down, breathe, and savor.