The kids ask for “cuddles” every night before bed, something that I’ve partaken in less and less this past year. Sometimes due to work, often times because it’s annoying and I just want to relax and drink wine and watch TV. With Noah in particular, I didn’t feel bad saying no, as he’s a big kid now and shouldn’t need cuddling or coddling to go to sleep.
Still, like clockwork, Noah asked to cuddle today, and again, I said no because I was still in the middle of working. Noah advised he would wait for me patiently and, at 9:30pm when I went to check up on him, he popped his head up excitedly to see if I had arrived to cuddle. I conceded and sat down on his bed while he cradled my hand in his, right underneath his chin. Noah usually stays up for hours past his bedtime doing god know what. But within minutes of holding my hand he was completely out, like a switch.
I felt simultaneously grateful and guilty that cuddle time was so short-lived. As a parent it constantly feels like I’m racing to the finish line, just trying to get through the day so I can sit down in peace without the kids wreaking havoc in my vicinity. But I’m realizing now (a little too late) that my kids are old and older and I’ve already missed out on so much and that there are only a number of “cuddle times” left.
Kids suck and parenting sucks until you sit and think about it and you wish you could do it all over again but you can’t.
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