It took a kid’s cup to remind me, but pieces of the school year are designed to make parents LONG for summer.
And this is coming from a self-proclaimed summertime hater. So that’s saying ALOT.
Why are we so busy?
Don’t get me wrong; I love activities. I love structure. I love the community we’ve formed around our four busy ladies. I even love the sign-up geniuses that land in droves in my email inbox. This is a first world problem if ever there was one.
But, the onslaught that flies in during periods of the school year kind of makes me want to take a nap.
I’m convinced that the busy-ness wipes us all out, because it slaps parents in the face with the harsh reality that our children are growing through another chapter along the road to who they are going to be. And with each passing chapter written and sent to press, our role as their parent becomes just a little different. Not less, but different.
And as these roles change from year to year, and from child to child, it is very tempting to grasp for any and every thing that you can hold on to, from ballet recitals to moving up ceremonies to last soccer games to ice cream celebrations to field day to anything else to captures these moments in time.
Where are all the kid’s cups?
Not usually one to be horribly sentimental, I pressed pause one morning when I was unloading the dishwasher. In the midst of getting Laura Claire ready to jump on the bus, I tried to fill up her water bottle, only to discover, none of her cups were there. And not only were none of her cups there, but none of her sisters’ were either. I couldn’t even try to sneak a Sofia the First thermos into a second grade book bag, because they were all gone.
“Precious children, where are all the cups?”
“No seriously, we have at least 15. One of which I just bought last week. Where did they go?”
Blank stares turn to disinterest as I relay the necessity of water bottles when it’s hot, coupled with the cost of all of these blessed cups that usually either leak or threaten to grow mold or get chucked at my head by a toddler who thinks that’s the funniest thing in the world.
Middle one pipes up: “I bet they’re in the car.” Much to her dismay, she gets sent out to the car, and returns after two minutes with a straw. Not even a cup or a top, but just a straw.
Audible sigh, coupled with the conscientious effort not to roll my eyes.
“Taylor Brooke, where’s the rest of the cup?”
“All I could find was the straw.”
Pauses briefly to consider what she’s about to say, yet still makes the wrong choice…
“You know, you throw a lot of stuff away when you clean up. I bet you threw all the sippy cups away.”
What followed was a proclamation about how all the cups would find their way back to the sink by the end of the week, or I would take all the money out of their piggy banks to buy new ones.
This post contains affiliate links, which means I receive a small commission, at no extra cost to you, if you make a purchase using this link.
On my list of parenting trials and errors, portable cups are at the top! After trying what I can only believe is every cup ever made, these are the favorites in our house:
For bigger kids who are involved in sports, these are my favorite. They keep water cool for hours, even while sitting in the sun.
At the end of the week, we found three cups: one in the car, one in Laura Claire’s locker, and one at ballet. Needless to say, I’m still searching for the missing multitude. Kind of like how Allie Jean is still trying to figure out how to get up the stairs by body slamming into the mesh gate blocking her path.
Our search will continue, similar to the search for my peace and sanity during this wild time of the year. I’m all for meeting milestones and moving forward, but there was something poignant about all the missing cups. Each one lost is a reminder that my girls and I have lived and learned. We’ve made friends and mistakes and grown and loved. Apparently, all while being well hydrated.
And in the moments when time does move quickly, I get to catch a glimpse that, despite my calendar telling me otherwise, they still are little after all.