Saturday I had an epiphany in the grocery store.
I hear a lot about how a trip to the store alone is like a vacation. Not for me. I adore taking Evie to the grocery store with me. She's so good, charms the pants of off everyone she meets and really? It's a lot of fun.
As we were walking the aisles of the stores and talking about green broccoli, yellow bananas, crunchy crackers, yummy cheese and red strawberries Evie would occasionally lay her her head on my chest and say, "Momma". She said thank you so politely when I bought her a buddy fruit to snack on. Kisses were demanded, giggles abounded and hats on strange passerby were pointed out.
As we cruised down one aisle she noticed a fish on a bottle of hand soap and exclaimed, "Momma! Fish!", then died laughing at herself, and right by the hand soap on aisle ten I had a motherhood epiphany.
"It won't always be this way."
Someday my girl will outgrow riding in the buggy and insist on walking. Someday I won't even be able to pick her up. Someday she won't nod her head emphatically and excitedly after pointing out a "Lellow banana, Momma!" for the umpteenth time. Someday she won't want to hold my hand in the parking lot. Someday she won't sing her abc's in her sweet little voice. Someday she won't hold her hands and out and demand "kisses!" from me. Someday an adventure to the grocery store with momma won't be the highlight of her day. Someday I will no longer be the coolest woman in the world just because I make racecar noises in the grocery store.
Someday all of that will be true, but that someday was not that day or the next or even today.
The old woman telling me to enjoy this stage started to make sense.
The little girl who spilled her milk in my shoes because she is a stubborn hard headed (almost) two year old who was disobeying is the same little girl who demands group hugs from her father and me then runs between us giving hugs and laughing like it's the best thing in the world. She's the same little girl who loves dinosaurs, airplanes, choo choo trains and her puppy dogs. She is my bright, beautiful, shiny, one-of-a-kind daughter. And? It won't always be this way.
As we approach having a full blown, two year old on our hands I am going to remember that moment in the middle of Kroger. There will be tears, temper tantrums and timeouts, but there will also be all the joy of watching Evie explore the world in the delighted way that only a two year old can.
I'm going to savor every second, not because they are all savorable, but because during the tears and the fun I'll remember: It won't always be this way.