We saw the new live-action Beauty and the Beast this past weekend. No shock there, I'm sure, ha. (We're so predictable.)
But toward the climax, knowing that it might get just a little more intense than what she'd like, Lola changed seats and scooted in close to me. (Amelia had already long before already snuggled in with Grandpa and Grandma.) Lifting the arm rest between us, Lola was able to huddle up right to me, resting her head against my shoulder, my arm dropping instinctively around her.
Lola stayed there, right next to me, for the rest of the movie. I whispered to her, she whispered to me, both of anxiously anticipating our favorite scene from the animated film (which, um, never came: It mustn't have fit the theme of the new film -- but don't take that as a knock against the new film: We both really enjoyed the new one too, surprise surprise, I know).
Anyways, as we huddled together, my fingers tracing the bones of her bare ankle, straddling that thin line between "rub me" and "tickle me," for a few moments, I could almost forget that in just a few months, she's going to turn 9. 9!
Two Sundays ago, Millie was getting a bit restless in worship at church. Typical 5-year-old behavior I'm sure. I lifted her to my hip as we sang, gently swaying, getting giggles and smiles aplenty. We danced (hopefully quietly?), I sang, whispering the lyrics into her ear, letting her squirm just a bit in my arms.
The next day, I could barely move my arms.
The girls are getting bigger. They are getting older. Our roles as their parents are shifting a little more every day. Not getting less important, just that we're needed in different ways.
So now, when those increasingly rarer flashes of little-kidness do show up, we're grabbing them as quickly as we can.
We are so excited to see where their futures lead, most definitely!
But, yeah, some days I want time to just slow down a little bit.
A lot of bit, honestly.