The Morning Chase

By Andrea Harris

And…he’s off! His diaper swishing as his little legs waddle down the hall. The chase is on.

I take off in a sprint behind him. I dodge past the magnetic alphabet letters strewn across the floor and dash beyond covers of Blues Clues videos until he’s trapped between me and his big stuffed tiger.

Ah-hah! I’ve got him. He laughs, struggles a little and then gives in. I get what I want – a good morning kiss on those chubby cheeks.

Every morning I try to get a kiss from my 2-year-old. And every morning it becomes a chase. My husband looks at me like I’m crazy running around the house trying to catch our toddler. But I know my time is limited. He’s growing up fast, so I have to get all my hugs and kisses in now.

When he was born, I remember everyone saying, “Oh, they just grow up so fast. You better cherish every moment.” But my first few weeks as a new mom were not something I wanted to cherish. There was the spit-up in my hair, lack of sleep, worry wrinkles developing under my eyes and sore legs from pacing the floor attempting to stop his crying.

The first six weeks seemed to drag on and on. I couldn’t wait for my husband to get home from work so my arms could have a break. I couldn’t wait to talk to a person who would respond with actual words.
My poor husband probably couldn’t wait to get to work and away from his wife, who now showered only twice a week. His wife, who talked her head off as soon as he got home from work and bombarded him at the garage door with a screaming, colicky baby.

Things are different now. We’ve seen the rapid changes, the growth spurts and the happy moments go by so quickly.

I know it won’t be long before the morning chase turns into the morning rush. Rushing around to get breakfast eaten, books together and off to school. No time to cuddle. If I’m lucky, I’ll still get a few fun, “wrestle-you-down” bear hugs on occasion.

Then comes the teen years when I just won’t be hip enough. And besides, being seen with mom could ruin even the coolest guy’s reputation. Knowing those days are approaching, I don’t mind my morning workout. I know from the sound of those giggles that my 2-year-old doesn’t mind either.

I might look like a nincompoop running around in my PJ’s, jumping over toys and chasing my toddler, but at least I’m getting my kisses now before he does what everyone warned me about – “grows up too fast.”

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Copyright 2004 Andrea Harris

Andrea Harris, a former teacher, is a stay-at-home mom to son, Sean and new daughter, Sydney Anne. She resides in Collierville, TN. You can read more of her essays by visiting Notes From a Housewife.