Shoes in the Closet...

This post was born of a comment dear Barry said to me yesterday.

I was cranky because a LOT of the shoes that he, dear son and dear daughter bring into the house do not get put away but end up in a muddle.  Like this.  Actually, EXACTLY like this:

I said "How can you stand it?" and he said "Now I just think that soon enough they will be gone and the closet will be very orderly and I will be very sad when that happens."

GULP.

And then I was emailing the lovely Dina over at My Superfluities, who said that all of her kids were in bed except  baby Angus and I went GULP! again, because I blinked five minutes ago and my daughter was born and then one blink later it was my son and now they are 21 and 18 respectively.

It is trite to say that they grow so fast, but they do.

It reminded me of reading the book Over and Over by Charlotte Zolotow, which chronicles one year in the life of a young girl through holidays and seasons, to my daughter and then my son when they were little.

I remember when they didn't know when their birthdays were or when Christmas was.

I remember rocking them to sleep.

I remember worrying about finding babysitters and friends and good grades and patience...

I remember carving pumpkins with them and taking them out trick or treating in their snowsuits and mittens and the boy always had to pee in the bushes, because, well, he just couldn't hold it...

I remember cozy flannel pajamas, hot chocolate, toboggans, Polly Pockets, Action Figures, Snow Days, sick days, chicken pox, decorating the Christmas tree, family fun Friday night when we would all climb in bed after supper on Friday and eat popcorn and watch a Disney movie.  I think of my parents still alive buying my children gifts and spending time with them.

Everything was magical.  Everything was cozy.  Except for the temper tantrums and hurt feelings and lack of sleep.  But still: everything was cozy.

I think of a Child's Garden of Verses, by Robert Louis Stevenson and our especial favourite The Land of Counterpane:

When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay,
To keep me happy all the day.

And sometimes for an hour or so
I watched my leaden soldiers go,
With different uniforms and drills,
Among the bed-clothes, through the hills;

And sometimes sent my ships in fleets
All up and down among the sheets;
Or brought my trees and houses out,
And planted cities all about.

I was the giant great and still
That sits upon the pillow-hill,
And sees before him, dale and plain,
The pleasant land of counterpane.

So today, I am officially looking at the shoes in the closet differently.  They are still here.  Thank God: they are still here....