I’ve likely heard the phrase above a million times thus far in my life, and now that I think about it, more frequently since I have become a mother.
As many of you may know, I am currently on maternity leave, so writing this column is a true testament to my love of writing because I have many other things to do as a mom of a newborn and a toddler.
But alas on the very rare occasion when my creativity sparks nowadays, I should most definitely set my keyboard on fire, so to speak.
You may think the headline phrase is about the age of my children or a sentimental phase of life we are moving on from, but in reality, it is about my eldest’s favourite toy. A little lion stuffy, conveniently named ‘Lion,’ that used to be bright yellow but is now closer to a light brown colour.
I didn’t know how much that lion meant to my husband and I until my son lost him. This was not the first time my son had lost him, but this was the first time this little stuffy didn’t show up in any of my three-year-old son’s typical hiding spots: in the cupboards of his toy kitchen, in the trunk of his toy trucks, or in the blanket fort that has been standing for several months in our family room.
I began to get worried when he didn’t show up and that ratty-tatty toy’s life began to flash before my eyes.
My dear friend gave him that toy and to this day she is so proud of the fact that she gave him his favourite toy. My son cuddled that toy on his way home from the hospital when he was only two days old. He was there for every sickness, his first sleepover, his first day at daycare, even for the car ride to his kindergarten orientation, and every nap time or family movie night in between. I’m not joking when I say that toy is in nearly every family photo.
We knew how much this lion meant to our son, so when we repeatedly returned from our searches empty-handed, my husband and I started to get emotional.
That lion is so much a part of my son’s life that it has even invaded his personality. Due to his love for this stuffy, we nicknamed our son at a young age Lucas Lion. The first movie he became obsessed with was The Lion King, and now at almost four years old he knows all the words to all the songs – and the punchlines to all the jokes in the film.
By this time in our search, my husband and I were desperate to find this little lion. My husband was delirious and was looking in places Lucas doesn’t even go – for example under the deck in the backyard.
I was so desperate I snuck into my sleeping newborn daughter’s room to search – risking waking her and recklessly throwing away my sleep for the remainder of the night. It was all for nothing, as I still had no luck in the search.
The worst part was while my husband and I were teary-eyed searching, our son had fallen asleep for maybe the first time without this stuffed toy. Not phased at all.
To prove to you that my husband and I’s hearts were more broken than our son, we actually woke up our son to interrogate him about where he thought the little lion might be hiding.
“I think he might be in mommy’s car,” Lucas said half asleep.
My husband and I had both already searched the car, but being so dedicated to the cause I went out a second time to search the vehicle. This time I found the slippery beast.
Before I tell you about my victory, I need to backtrack a bit. Not so long ago we transitioned our son into a booster seat in the car as he meets both the height and weight restrictions. In doing so my son found out that there is a hidden compartment that folds down between the two backseats because his car seat no longer blocked it. You know, the fold-down compartment where the cup holders are found.
Well, when I went back into my car on the hunt for a lion, I saw that this armrest was not fully upright. It was only sticking out maybe a quarter of an inch, but when I noticed it, I paused and prayed that our lion was behind that little door.
He was.
I snatched that toy up so fast and I’m not ashamed to say I hugged it before bringing it inside to brag to my husband that I found it.
My husband told me I mended his broken heart by finding that toy.
Here’s the kicker of the story, though.
I took the toy downstairs, crept into my sleeping son’s room and gently woke him from his slumbers. I proudly told him I found Lion.
My son snatched him out of my hands and hugged him as quickly as I had back in the car in our driveway. He asked me where Lion was hiding, and I told him, “In where the hidden cup holders are in Mommy’s car.”
He laughed and said, “That was a good one.”
Then laid his sleepy head back on his pillow and thanked me.
I made him promise not to hide Lion again because Mom and Dad were so worried about him.
He pinky promised me and then yawned and dozed back asleep, barely phased by the emotional roller coaster that his father and I had just experienced.
Never did I think a toy would mean so much to me as an adult. More than any childhood toy I ever had.
I realized that I will likely be the one who keeps that toy in a safe place when my son grows up and thinks stuffed animals aren’t cool anymore.
I will likely dig it out when I am a grandmother, while my son complains that the toy is too dirty for the baby to play with. I will tell him it’s his fault it’s dirty because he took that toy everywhere.
I think I finally learned the lesson behind the phrase, “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.”
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Kelsey Bent is a Midwestern Newspapers journalist currently on maternity leave. Comments and feedback can be sent to kbent@midwesternnewspapers.com.
