Time is a funny thing.
I remember when I ran through the dorm trying to get my laundry done and when I passed by the t.v. room a TON of people were in there watching some show called “Friends.”
After I loaded the dryer with my acid wash jeans (oh kidding, I NEVER wore those…) I came back and sat and watched it and laughed my butt off. And now, that same show has been off the air for several years (btw, I still miss it…)
I have a photograph of my parents that sits on the shelf I pass by every time I enter the kitchen. It was taken in 1992 on a trip to Colorado, the LAST vacation I took with them, just my parents and I. I love their smiles and the background.
But they are older now. And every time I look at that photo, I see it. I see how time has marched on.
I see it when I look at my children.
Even the baby. But especially The B Man.
I bought new pajamas for him the other day and was just sure the pants would be too long. They were not.
I remember the first moment I held him, my first baby.
They didn’t give him to me right away after I birthed him. I came to find out he wasn’t breathing. A lot was going on during his delivery (A LOT, with us both.) and it didn’t even register that I hadn’t heard him cry.
While everyone was fussing over him and my doctor was stitching me up, and Tim was over there making sure our baby was okay, I just kept saying to myself, “Why haven’t they given him to me, why, why, why?”
It was several minutes later that I finally held him and breathed him in and that time, THAT time right there…. seemed like an eternity.
Since then it’s been 5 and half years of all kinds of new experiences because he’s my first at everything, from being born into my life and making me a mother, to the first to have homework.
Time has marched so fast that my first baby has homework now.
Tonight I looked into his blue eyes (he got those from his Daddy) as he came over to kiss his baby sister, who I was holding, and I came to a realization.
Time will continue on, there’s no stopping it. And before I know it, Baby K will NOT be a baby anymore either. I will have memories of when I had her too and I heard “here’s your baby girl” and I cried because she was perfect and healthy and ours for the loving and raising.
I will blink and she will be doing her laundry, at the dorm.
But, God willing, I will always have these memories, good, bad and all the in between. Memories of my children that carry on as they grow and change.
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