I love Modern Family!! My whole family loves it. I am always smiling at the end of it, and feel that I have taken some sort of lesson away from it as well. It is our modern day After-School Special. One of the lessons I have learned is to dress like a hot Latin woman, only heels and low cut tops. I now wear a padded bra on top of a water bra.
An episode from a few weeks ago stayed with me. In the episode, after the death of the Dunphy’s older next door neighbor, Phil reflected on his own life, aware that time is passing by so quickly and desperate to make lasting memories with his kids.
I am in a constant state of panic about this. Constantly echoing in my head are the clichés, they grow up in the blink of an eye, appreciate every second you have, they will always be your babies. I was just complaining to my husband that I feel like I see my kids less and less. They have school, then they have their work to do or an activity, then they want to play with friends. I am happy they are happy, and busy, but I don’t really want to be available to watch Ellen Degeneres in the afternoons? I am desperate to spend more time with them, them, not so much.
So like Phil tried desperately to create a perfect day with one of his kids, I have been trying to do the same. I am trying to make those days, the remember when …. days? We already have a lot of remember when moments. Remember when I had to stop spelling words in front of you? Remember when I had to start knocking on your door? Remember when you told me I can’t wear a bikini around you anymore, that it’s gross? Such good memories, that I have been going to the Apple Store to learn how to set them to music so I can watch them over and over as I sob in my bed.
But I have decided to take action. I can’t let all of this time pass by. And, because beggars can’t be choosers; I will follow my kids lead in the memory making department. I will go to a slasher film with Ben, I will attempt to put together Legos with Jack, and I will let Julia apply makeup to me while she is blindfolded. Cause in the blink of an eye, they are in college, Scott and I are staring at each other, eating dinner at 4 in the afternoon. In the blink of an eye, one of my sons is bringing some perky girl home who doesn’t understand my baby the way I do.
In the blink of an eye, I’ll be the one in diapers.