I’m so caught up in wishing Cooper was talking that I am missing the special moments. Time is a funny thing to any parent. On one hand you want it to stop. You want to enjoy this little, perfect baby forever. You want to soak up every second so you never forget it. And then on the other hand there are moments when you need time to go faster. Like when your sweet baby doesn’t sleep more than two hours at a time. Or they are teething or whatever. I spend so much time wishing Cooper would start talking. I’ve made a career out of it. And because of that I am missing right now.
Here is a perfect example.
I pick Cooper up from daycare 3 days a week. He is always waiting at the door for me when I get there. His little nose is pressed up against the glass and he is bouncing up and down. I can hear him shrieking from the second I open my car door. When I go inside the house he instantly knocks me over with a hug. He points and shouts and laughs. He’s basically saying, “MY MOM IS HERE!!!” After a few dozen hugs and kisses he calms down a bit. How cute is that?
But there are days when another mom joins me during pick up. She has a son that is 4 months older than Cooper. He is adorable and smart and of course talking. When she enters the door he shouts, “mommy, mommy, mommy”, about a few dozen times. And usually throws in an “I love you!” for good measure. And just like that my heart is broken. I get so sad that I just try and hurry out of there. At that point it wouldn’t matter if Cooper did a backflip because I am so sad about the lack of talking.
And why? Why can’t I enjoy Cooper right now? I want too. I really, really do. I think the fear though takes over. The fear of the unknown. The jealousy of other kids. I’m jealous of the parents.
As the mom of a kiddo with speech needs I spend so much time praying for him to get better. I would do pretty much anything, pay any amount of money, give anything up if it meant cooper would have a perfect life. But it doesn’t work like that. So I spend the rest of my time holding my breath as I try and get through the days. The path of least resistance.
And in doing this I fear that I’m missing it. Missing the cute things he does because there aren’t words. And it’s so damn silly.