I always ho-hummed when the Been-There, Done-That’s told me to embrace the moments and breathe in their scent. I humored them with a smile when they warned me how fast it goes. I was hopeful when they reminded me that they don’t stay babies very long.
To me, back then, time didn’t seem to go fast enough when I was feening a full night of uninterrupted sleep or a day without having to change diapers or be followed into the bathroom.
I loved my babies though.
Everything about them.
I was there, watching every milestone come. And go.
Writing dates in baby books which have long since disappeared.
Promising myself that I will always remember. I will never forget the firsts, seconds, thirds. Cute little -ism’s that I thought were embedded in the photo albums and tape recorders of my brain.
Then, I blinked.
And those memories are gone. Trapped in the cobwebs of my overwhelmed and fuzzy mind.
Now, before me stand deep male voices telling me angrily that they don’t have to.
Girls who are becoming women begging for new razors and pads.
Rebelling, hormones, angst, depression, anger, boy-crazed, girl-crazed, Mom, I hate you, stop it your embarrassing me, don’t kiss me in front of people…
All I did was blink.
And they replaced my babies.
My sweet smelling, cooing babies who wanted nothing more that to just coexist in our own little world, are now these beautiful young adults. If I squint and stare long enough I can see the babies that they were.
I wish I breathed in just a little deeper, a little longer. I wish I held them a little tighter.
Maybe it wouldn’t have gone so fast.
I’m trying to embrace these few years that I have left with them. I am trying to not wish it, these difficult and hormonally charged teen years, to be over.
Because I know. I must be careful what I wish for.