Air

My little man.

I tend to not get too stuck in my past as a mom. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about my kids' as babies, except when I'm scrapbooking or blogging. I don't think back to their infancy, I don't mourn their growth. I get excited at each new milestone.

That would be why I was completely shocked the other day when it hit. I had picked up B's photo album. It's one she carries around and has us read to her like a picture book. It's a fabric covered photo book with little satin booties on the front. Inside, it holds her very first pictures. It tells of her beginning. It was laying on the couch where she had set it aside and I didn't really think much when I picked it up.

As I started looking through it, I got the strangest sensation. Almost as if I couldn't breathe. This ache. For something I couldn't even put my finger on.

Suddenly, I realized. I will never again see that baby face. That tiny little self. She is here now, six years old and on her way to fully grown. I let myself just wallow in it for a minute.

Then I had to think about the little man. And how quickly his own baby self has gone away. And took his toddler self with it.

In their place, I have these two active, funny, clever little children who fill our home with love, noise, and sometimes exhaustion (as I hear their creative play upstairs turn to shouts at this very minute).

I was telling my mom about this strange occurrence and she described to me how she sometimes gets that same ache, still. She knew exactly what I was talking about and could describe it perfectly. I am her baby. So I guess this may not be the last time I get this strange feeling. This oxygen stealing sappiness.

It also totally makes me see why people just keep on having babies. Having one to snuggle right now would sure help with that ache.

My gratitude for the growth and development of my kids is daily. We are blessed.

But there are moments. When the blur of the past six years comes into focus for a moment and I just have to sit. And breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mom wrote this as we were growing up, it just sums it all up so nicely. She's far more poetic than me...

They grow so
Tall, they
Get away,
And I just
Stand and
Watch.
How can I ever
Have grown
So old in
So short a
Time.
If the clock
Will not slow
Itself, then
I must be
More selfish
With each
Day.
There must be
More time
Allowed
For sharing
My children’s
Growth.
I can never
Go back,
So then I shall
Savor more
Wholly, the
Growing forward.