Looking Back

"I'm already missing the things I’ve become accustomed to."

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This essay first appeared in a newsletter almost two years ago, but it’s the sentiment I’m feeling again and again, mourning each stage of my daughters’ childhood while they move to the next.

On the Go

Words by Hannah Weil McKinley

We’re in the midst of some big birthdays here. Not big round numbers or milestone birthdays, but they feel significant anyway. The kind that make you stop and take stock of things. I’m on the verge of 38 with two daughters, newly three and almost six; and something is pointing to bigger changes. 

I’ll reference it sometimes when I feel the routine shifting—how my kids are resisting the very normal things that have taken up our days and nights for months (though it feels like longer). How I can see my kids getting older, and I’m watching it happen in real time. I’ll tell my husband I’m already missing it, already missing the things I’ve become accustomed to with little kids—and he’ll smile and tell me, “You have them for your whole life.”

It’s not that he’s wrong; but he is, too. 

Motherhood is forever, but these little girls aren’t the babies they were, and they won’t be these little girls for all that much longer. I’ll have them, yes—but not like this. Not just like this. When their voices are small and their laughter is silly and their faces are soft and their little hands and feet—their whole bodies—still fit, nestled right into mine. 

I had a two-year-old just yesterday, actually. And when we were on our way to school last week, she was singing “Baby Beluga,” getting loud at the chorus: “Swim so wild, and you swim so free.” 

I sang, too; but we both muddled our way through the second and third verses, and she smiled and asked me what the words were. I told her I didn’t remember, and we laughed our way through the rest of the song, until she lost interest and started humming something else. 

After I dropped her off, I pulled up the lyrics on my phone and listened to the song the whole way home, by myself. Just Raffi and me. I sang it again and again, testing myself, so I’d be ready next time with all the right words.

With my first daughter, I remember the excitement in getting to the next thing. Watching her roll over, then crawl, then walk; watching her interests evolve and encouraging all of this growth. I played the Beatles and Adele while she played on the mat. I thought a lot about when she wouldn’t be a baby and we’d talk and share stories and she’d come to me for advice, and tell me her secrets, and there were a whole host of kids songs I didn’t know or care to learn.  

Now I’m waiting for it all to slow down; but the pace only gets faster and the things ahead aren’t things I know anymore. I’ve written about it before—how navigating the next phase with bigger children is charting unfamiliar territory. And I’m not ready, even though they are. 

So, I’m sitting in the car reciting Raffi and waiting to pick up my two-year-old on the verge of her third birthday. I hold each phrase in my heart while I say it, making a promise to myself to savor exactly where we are, because there’s so much that’s changing, and I know it. It sneaks in when you barely realize it, when it seems that there’s only sameness stretched out ahead.  

The stuff that’s mundane and normal, until it starts to signal growth. And then, there it is: A departure from everything you started to take for granted. And, it’s their songs, yes; but also, a whole little way of life together.

Baby beluga in the deep blue sea

Swim so wild and you swim so free

Heaven above and the sea below

And a little white whale on the go

You're just a little white whale on the go…

Winterizing with the things that make me happy.

1. In my collection of beloved sweaters is a worn, striped favorite from Kule. I’m updating this season with their new colorway—perfect for layering.

2. Every Dorsey piece I own has lived up to the hype. For all the holiday dressing ahead, I’m eying this pair of gorgeous earrings.

3. …Speaking of holiday parties, I’m picturing all of my outfits with this chic satin pouch on my arm. I love the bright color as a cool way to brighten up a black dress or suit. (It would also be perfection with a navy cashmere sweater and jeans.)

4. I slather Kate McLeod body stones on after every shower so I never have dry skin. The mini stones are especially great for travel, so you can take them everywhere.

5. Slippers I can wear to school drop-off are a must, and this shearling-lined pair means I’ll be warm and cozy, even while I’m rushing out the door. xHannah