Well, duh. Of course they do.
Day to day life is never the same. You wake and sleep at different times. Your daily tasks change. You speak differently. Every little thing about your day changes in some way.
But there are the big changes, too. So big they can't ever truly be described. Any attempt is always inadequate. Like how your entire definition of love changes. How you find yourself more in love than you ever were before or thought possible. And how despite that love being bigger than anything you ever dreamed, it is still woefully inadequate to meet how much this child deserves to be loved. Big, big, big things happen that just don't translate into puny little words.
But there's a middle ground, too. The daily things that become big things, or maybe big things that are manifested in little things. Something like that.
It's currently summer and life is abundant and sometimes doors are open for longer than usual and that means flies are in the house.
To me, flies are annoying. They don't seem to really offer a lot to the home. They make an irritating little buzzy sound. They land on stuff and because of watching the horror that was The Fly we all know they vomit on everything they land on. So...ew. A little creature that although fairly harmless (it's no brown recluse) doesn't bring a lot to the table either (hello, adorable little lady bug). I try to shoo them outside (crunchy), but most of them meet The Flyswatter in this house (very soggy).
But Sweet Pea is obsessed with this one (multiple? Alas, I'm racist here and admit they all look alike to me) fly that seems to like hanging out by our living room window. She gazes at it when it is still and slowly smiles. When it suddenly moves and darts about the windowpane, her bewildered eyes try to track its wild path and the excitement makes her giggle. It flies up between the blinds and she turns her head to look up in wonder at an entirely new world of light peeking through wooden blinds casting shadows back on the window that holds a distorted reflection of her own little self. The fly returns for a moment and we see the joyous revelation on her face that it is back within reach. Her chubby hands now shoot forward to announce to the fly that a game of Tag has commenced. The fly is an excellent opponent and keeps her racing after him. But eventually the sharp mind of the little human sees some unknown to us pattern and goes to where the fly is just about to land. The timing is perfect and her hand has mostly closed over the fly. She holds her clawed hand over the fly, fingers standing up on the windowpane like little bars, enclosing the fly in a cage that in time would be found to be quite ineffective.
But for the moment: success! The fly buzzes within her little hand-cage and I think the buzzing sound in her hand makes it sound like the fly is tickling her. And then I know it is, for she lets out such a laugh and a squeal of delight! Her hand-cage can't withstand the power of her excitement and the fly is free once again.
This simple activity, this interaction between little human and fly, changes my world. It's just a fly for heaven's sake. Another one of those day to day things we don't think much of. The fly is but an irritation to me, something to actually hunt down and kill because it dares enter my life. But in the eyes of our daughter, it's a magical creature, a treasured pet, a source of wonder and joy and delight. The fly lives another day. And will probably live another after that. And in the future, I might just leave the door open a little longer on purpose, just so more flies can join our little party.
In big and small and oddly-fitting in-between ways, kids change your life.
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