Rediscovering Wonder: Looking Back at Childhood
There’s a moment in motherhood—maybe many moments—when you catch yourself watching your child with a kind of quiet awe. It might be when they discover a ladybug crawling on their arm, when they giggle uncontrollably at a joke that makes no sense, or when their little personality starts to shine through and you see their determination and strength
I used to be that child. We all did. And yet, somewhere along the way, between schedules, responsibilities, and the steady hum of adulthood, that sense of wonder often fades. Lately, though, I’ve been drawn back to it—not through my own doing, but through the eyes of my children.
The Magic We Leave Behind
As a kid, I remember swinging on our swing set, leaning back, staring at the clouds, convinced I could see entire worlds drifting past. I spent hours lost in my imagination, imagining that my backyard was a secret kingdom. Even the simplest things—like the way frost painted patterns on a window or the way lightning bugs flickered in the dusk—felt like magic.
Then life got busy. Wonder was replaced with efficiency, responsibility, and routine. There wasn’t time to get lost in daydreams. Instead of pausing to watch the clouds, I was watching the clock, checking things off to-do lists, making sure everyone got where they needed to be.
But childhood doesn’t let you forget so easily. My kids bring me back to it every day, and I’m learning to listen.
Seeing Through Their Eyes
It’s a strange thing to grow older while being surrounded by the fresh curiosity of children. They remind me that the world is still filled with marvels.
The other night, my child gasped at the moon—just the moon!—as if they were seeing it for the first time. They press their hands against the rain-streaked windows and whisper, “It’s so beautiful.” They don’t just taste ice cream; they savor it as if it’s the best thing they’ve ever eaten (because, to them, it is).
I find myself slowing down. Taking a deep breath. Watching with them. And in those moments, I remember: wonder never really left. It was just waiting for me to notice it again.
Holding Onto Wonder
As a mom in my 40s, I don’t have the same carefree time that childhood allowed, but I do have a choice. I can rush through life, or I can pause and let the wonder seep back in.
So I’m choosing to:
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Look up at the sky more. The clouds still tell stories if I let them.
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Say “wow” more often. Even about little things.
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Let my kids lead me into their world. Their wonder is a gift, not just to them, but to me too.
One day, they’ll grow up and life will get busier for them, just like it did for me. But maybe, just maybe, they’ll remember that wonder isn’t something we have to leave behind. And if they forget, I hope they have someone to remind them—just like they’ve reminded me.
I have found that swinging is a great way to help even me slow down and go back to childhood. There are no unhappy memories of swinging because no matter if we were happy or sad when we headed to the swing it had a way of taking our cares away.