Last week my daughter and I spent Spring Break together. We hung out at home and in around places that were nearby. Before her break started, she devised a list of activities she wanted to do during the week. On Sunday night, the day before her break officially commenced, we watched a movie at home. We slid Judy Moody and the Bummer Summer into the DVD player. She grabbed popcorn from the bowl, popping each piece in her mouth, while her gaze never shifted from the movie. My husband and I watched her giggle. Many times during the movie, she turned toward us and proclaimed, “This is so much fun!”
We read books together, made crafts, and enjoyed unscheduled days together. Because we occupied each other’s space, there were times when I scolded her and she apologized for her offending behavior. After these brief little battles, she moved forward and asked, “Can we do the next thing on my list?” As the week charged on, we made brownies, had a lunch date, walked around in the mall, and visited the local cupcake place that was featured on Cupcake wars. In the evenings, we ventured to the tennis courts and I channelled my best Chris Evert, which guaranteed unstoppable laughter from my little girl.
I realize that this time we spend together is what she will cherish and remember. She is seven, where so much of what I say and how we interact will have an impression on her. This window of time, where she absorbs everything I say and do is finite. I realize this as she now includes the word embarrassed as a part of her vocabulary. She holds my hand a little less and sometimes pulls away when I kiss her cheek in front of her friends.
Her world is expanding and before I know it, her circle of love will include others.
I am holding on to every last memento of our shared love. One of my favorite memories of this Spring Break came in the form of a letter from my daughter. In one part of the letter, she writes, “You are the best mom ever! And I mean it! Mom!” When I read these words to my husband, a single tear fell from my cheek because I felt a multitude of emotions. I clutched the letter tight and stared at it for several minutes.
Holding on. Knowing one day, I will have to let go.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
My 7-year old is at that same juncture. Slowly slipping through my fingers, but young enough to want to linger a little while longer.
What a beautiful staycation story. And a wonderful reminder that it’s the simple moments we create that will be cherished. (Hugs to you!)
Your daughter will always remember this vacation, because it made her feel special. She chose the activities that you shared together. And as she grows older and eventually only lets you give her a kiss at bedtime and special moments, you will always have the letter to remind you of this week.
I thought I would remember everything about my children as they grew up – that somehow the memories would be so well established in my brain; I would never forget one. Thank goodness for reminders – like your letter!
Ahh but you’ll never let go completely. Those heartstrings you’re weaving will always be a connecting thread.
My youngest daughter just turned 30 and she often takes my arm now when we walk, just her grown up way of wanting to walk connected. I love it every bit as much as when she was little and would hold my hand.
Daughters are a joy for life as I’m sure you still are in rich ways to your mother!
How wonderful! You’ll never forget these times and more importantly, nor will your daughter. Not only does it help to shape her as a happy adult, when she has children of her own this will be recalled and she too will pass on that gift of one-to-one time and love to her own children.
Ah so sweet! Time flies and it’s always nice to cherish and treasure memories and moments such as this! Give her hugs whenever you can even if she don’t like it! LOL 🙂
Wonderful memories to treasure . I love every moment I spent with Daniel for spring break. I love this post ! 🙂
I have kids older than yours and looking back think that those middle years, the 7-14 years may have been the most important. Sounds like you had such a wonderful time, and this is such a lovely post.
I love this. What a magical week. My daughter is nine, and I find myself letting go a little bit more as each day passes. It is hard, yet beautiful, to watch them grow.
What a wonderful post. Am trying to stop what I’m doing to play with my children. I am taking a no social media after 5pm challenge to help me with this. 🙂
Nice to meet you. Visiting from the SITS girls.
I just spent spring break at home with my 2 kids. We didn’t have too much planned ahead of time and both kids thought it was the greatest ever. And so did I! I know I’ll miss quiet, lazy days goofing off together when they’re older and move away.
This post is so heart warming. I love when my daughter and I have what we call “mommy/daughter dates” because the time spent together is so precious but they won’t last. I’m visiting from #SITSsharefest.
What a sweet post. It sounds like you and your daughter had a wonderful time together.
She is so sweet! So glad you guys had a great spring break!
So sweet! So glad you had that week!
I am right there with you with my 7-year-old. It’s especially difficult to watch them pull away. You will cherish that letter forever.
Such a perfect story. It sounds like you had an amazing spring break, and I can picture how very happy your daughter was. She sounds so sweet (and you a wonderful mother). I know you will keep that note forever.
It’s true…they slowly begin to develop their own independent social lives. My son now arranges his own playdates – he gets on my phone and dials up his friends’ parents! It’s a little bittersweet sometimes when I realize how much time I have during those pockets of time that used to be occupied, but he is still a mama’s boy. I think they still remain quite dependent on us in many ways, though perhaps become more embarrassed to show it in front of friends.