So, the kids are heavy into some strange phases around here.
Which is nothing new. On any given day, they’re all in the middle of a phase or two. I wonder if I’ll remember these when they’re older? Or will the phases, that seem like such big deals right now, be the parts of their childhood that I forget?
Like the imaginary friend, Carlos, that Catie had when she was two. Carlos and his sister Ang went everywhere with us that summer. It became as natural Houston’s 100 degree weather and fruit snacks twice a day.
Ellie’s phase right now is that she loves to watch the videos we took of her as a baby. She stares at herself with a narcissistic glaze that can only be described as self-love. Will I remember this fascination with her infant self? Probably not. After her daily movie-watching sessions, I feel guilty that I’m not taking more videos of her now. I have the feeling I’ll remember my guilt but forget her phase.
Until we started watching these videos, I had forgotten Sam’s habit as a one-year-old of rubbing his forearm in his mouth to soothe himself. He also made this blub, blub, blub noise while he did it. The whole thing was so loud and so constant that I never thought I would forget it. Of course the phase passed, and I forgot.
I can’t say I hope to remember Catie’s current phase…
As nerve-racking as it is, it has to be one that’s preparing her for her role as super big sister (you know how fifth year seniors call themselves super seniors? That’s what we call a big sister the third time around). She suddenly has such a responsibility about everything. No, not in a way like she’s taking out the trash and unloading the laundry. Her responsibility manifests itself in a quirk that can only be described as an odd, odd phase–she overshares.
About everything.
“Mommy, just wanted to let you know that I was picking my nose, but I didn’t eat it, but I didn’t know what to do with it so I just wiped it on the side of the trash can, but I thought that was yucky so I went and got a napkin, but then I knocked down the stack. And they’re all over the pantry. Is that okay?”
Like all phases it seems endearing with a little perspective. One day we’ll laugh about the summer she reported everything she did and thought.
But right now, it’s driving me crazy. She talks like this all the time. Constantly is not an exaggeration. I don’t know how she has the breath/energy/stamina to worry about everything she does, but she’s doing a mighty good job at it.
And I’m sure that when she’s a teenager, and she’s not sharing anything with us, but instead locked in her room texting her friends (will people still text in ten years?), I’ll miss Catie’s Summer of No-Filter.
Or maybe I’ll just forget all about it by then.
