Monday, February 28, 2011


Dear Nostalgia,
I am always surprised at where you pop up. Last night was a complete side swipe of my emotions. And you are to thank for it. There I was, hanging out at Arctic Circle with my little kids, watching them play on the indoor playground. I was minding my own business. I was not festering about my oldest child's upcoming 14th birthday. I was not internally lamenting the passage of years. I was simply hanging with the littles, killing time.

And you snuck up on me. Like a cougar lying in wait for its prey. And me? I was the juicy ribeye.

You, Nostalgia, snuck in behind a cute little family with an adorable little 3 year old boy. He wasn't the spitting image of my boy-man, but.... He was wearing a little bomber jacket just like the one I had for my son at that age. And when this adorable little child turned around to tell his daddy, "Watch me! Daddy, watch me!" as he climbed up the playground like a "big" boy, I about lost it. Instantly you completely possessed me, and I flashed back to when my little boy-man was that size and would say, "Watch me, Mamma, watch me!" with excitement in his little lispy voice.

Nostalgia, I blame you for my near breakdown at Arctic Circle. It took all of my self control to not go over to those complete strangers and shout for them to treasure that moment. That moment that had just happened. Because in a flash that boy would be a boy-man and would no longer talk in a sweet little voice, but in a crackling-finding his way to being a man kind of voice. And they would miss it, that moment, and it would be gone in the passage of time and pursuit of the next milestone. And they would wish it back.

So thanks, Nostalgia, for making me fight the urge to be a crazy woman at the local burger joint. Next time could you just schedule an appointment?

Wishing for another sweet little boy moment,


  1. Wait til that little boy has a little boy of his own. Watching your son as a father will grab your heart too :)

  2. Oh friend, nostalgia visits me all to frequently. I just well up and cry. It has all gone so fast, yet sometimes it seems like time drags on. How wonderfully blessed we are to have our babes...(my older ones claim to hate being called babes, but I think they secretly want to be little again)