“Just five more minutes.”
This is my eldest child’s nightly refrain as my partner and I tuck him into bed, pleading for us to remain by his side until slumber overtakes him. Recently transitioning to a “big kid” bed and sporting his favorite superhero-themed pajamas, this request serves as one of the few remnants of his fleeting infancy. To be candid, I often find myself begrudging this plea. As a stay-at-home parent, I am rarely without my children. Those precious quiet moments when both are asleep are sacred; I treasure them, diligently avoiding any distractions that might encroach upon my hard-earned solitude.
As I sit on the floor of my son’s room, counting down our five-minute agreement, my mind frequently drifts to my next task rather than savoring these fleeting moments with him. I envision myself ten minutes later, nestled on the couch, remote in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, zoning out to something trivial while enjoying a brief respite from parental demands.
At times, my daydreams lean toward the practical: tackling the laundry piled up in the bathroom or cleaning the remnants of dinner from the kitchen. There are countless tasks awaiting my attention, yet I find myself sitting beside my son, who wriggles and squirms, unable to drift off with thoughts of my imminent departure. However, I recognize that the days of him asking for these last five minutes will soon fade, replaced by different kinds of requests.
At six years old, he will implore me to let him stay outside a little longer with his neighbor, despite their occasional spats. They’ll be playing well together tonight, having forgotten yesterday’s grievances. With his limited time outdoors between school hours, I’ll gladly grant him this extra time, fully aware of how quickly his childhood is slipping away.
By age eleven, mornings will turn into a battle over his requests for five more minutes of sleep. I’ll remind him of the last time he lost track of time and missed the bus, stressing that tardiness is not an option unless he’s prepared to find his own way to school. A part of me will look forward to the day when he can drive himself, freeing me from the role of chauffeur, yet another part will mourn the loss of this final thread of dependence.
At seventeen, while out with his girlfriend, he will text me for five more minutes, even as he’s already late for curfew. He’ll insist the movie is just wrapping up and that he can’t leave now, promising to be home as soon as it concludes. I’ll chuckle knowingly, recalling my own teenage years of stolen moments with my partner. “Finish the movie,” I’ll respond. “But be home by 11.”
Eventually, he’ll head off to college, no longer needing to ask for anything other than to keep the laundry room empty for his return home each weekend. My days will fill with work and the busy schedules of my other children, yet my phone will remain close by in case he calls during his short walk back to his dorm.
Years later, my son will visit with his family, bringing the delightful chaos of children back into my home. Their laughter and energy will envelop the rooms, reviving memories of my own parenting days. I’ll notice how my granddaughter’s concentration mirrors her father’s, and how my grandson’s features evoke a sense of nostalgia that warms my heart.
As they prepare to leave, my son will announce the need to hit the road to avoid bedtime struggles for the little ones. Knowing it’s time for them to return to their lives will be difficult, and as he gathers their scattered belongings, I’ll feel an overwhelming urge for them to linger a little longer.
“Can you stay just a bit more?” I’ll ask, unable to resist.
“Sure, Mom,” he’ll say with a smile. “Five more minutes.” And even if he’s merely indulging me while counting down the seconds until he can resume his life, those five minutes will bring me a comfort beyond measure.
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In summary, the five-minute agreement is a touching reminder of the evolving nature of my relationship with my child, capturing the bittersweet essence of parenting as bonds shift and grow over time.
Keyphrase: Five-Minute Pact with Child
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