My friends are very impressed that I know all the words to every Music Together song ever written. This is because I have done MT just about every semester since Sam was 9 months old. First with Sam, then with Jack, now with Ben.
My boys seem to get bored of the music classes by 3 years old, so I figure I have one or two semesters left with Ben. Today, I was twirling him around and around to the music, totally soaking in his squeals of laughter and delight. And all of a sudden, like someone through a brick through a window and it hit me square in the chest, I had a wave of "I don't want this to be the end."
Trying not to get choked up, I was present with the thought that Ben is more than likely my last baby. He starts preschool next year. He moved into the big boys' bedroom where there is no rocker so I don't rock him to sleep anymore. He'd rather be riding bikes in the driveway with his brothers than snuggled up on my lap reading a book.
Over and over, the "I don't want this to be the end" tape played in my mind. But EVERY SINGLE logical reason tells me that we should be done. The truth is, at some point we have to be done. What if we do have another? That little guy is also some day going to turn two. He too will grow up and grow out of music classes and being rocked and laptime cuddles. I can't just keep having babies forever.
But if you are done, should you really feel such a strong tugging at your heart? Should dancing with your two year old really make you cry? When you sit down to dinner with your family, shouldn't you feel some sense of completion rather than noticing the empty chair at the table?