Summer is almost over and all my babies are getting bigger. Moving up a grade. Changing and growing inch by inch into the people they’ll become someday. There’s nothing like the end of summer to help me celebrate the good times we’ve had while reminding me with a steady metronome-like beat that time does, indeed, march on.
And it’s moving at a pace I don’t like anymore. As a kid I used to wish to be bigger or older of faster or taller or driving or R-rated movie going or college age or drinking age or adultish or independent. And I became all of those things almost without noticing.
But now that my babies are swept into that same march of time, I’m not sure I like it. I just want to stall for a bit, throw a rock into the gears and grind them to a halt so I can enjoy these moments for just a moment longer. So I can cling like a crazy woman to the ages and stages my children are in before they move on to the next one, each progressive stage coming sooner and being shorter than I’m comfortable with.
But no one asked me.
So I steal the moments and make the memories where I can, celebrating with my happy dance every chance I get. Because they are only this exact age at this exact moment for all of time. And I’m going to embrace it, love it, enjoy it, and hold onto it for as long as I can.
(Photo credit Meredith Shafer 2015) ©Copyright Meredith Shafer 2015
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