Little kids

This isn’t just for parents.

My wife and I recently re-watched Jordan Peterson’s famous parenting clip on raising little kids. In it, he reminds parents that our time with little ones is short – we really only have four years.

These years are magical and somehow set apart from later years of parenting, as he sees it. And I agree. All of parenting is an amazing gift but with different ages come different priorities, challenges, and adventure.

You only have four years when everything is new to a kid. Not a day has gone by since my oldest, Kennedy, became aware of the world that she didn’t gasp at something, however “mundane” to my uninspired imagination. Everything is a source of awe and wonder to her. You don’t get that with a 10 years old.

In nine days, my little girl turns four. We are entering the final lap of these uniquely magical years. And then we’ll start a new lap of different magical years.

As we’ve approached her fourth birthday, I’ve found myself more acutely aware our finite time with her as a little girl.

When she wants me to pretend to be a dinosaur chasing her around the kitchen (as she pretends to be a unicorn), you can be sure I’m going to get up and chase her around. If she wants me to snuggle her while she watches Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, I’ll be there on the couch. And every day when I take the kids on our morning walk, I find myself stopping just to watch her run ahead and look at bugs on the ground and explore the world.

This time is fleeting and the walls are beginning to close in on us. When we enter our next adventure, I want to be certain that I have no regrets about what we left behind.

Whether you have little kids or not, you are most certainly in a chapter of your life that will one day close. If you are like me, there is a good chance you don’t fully appreciate what you have, what you are experiencing right now.

I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to narrow my focus on whatever precious thing lies before me.

This season of life you are living will soon come to an end. Don’t wish you’d lived it better.