Such a cliché question.You’d think after asking this question year after year, by many a different person, we would figure it out. And yet, it still remains a mystery. At least to me it does. Quentin is getting ready to start Kindergarten in the fall. How did he get this big? When did it happen? I feel like I am stuck in some strange time continuum. As I recognize Quentin is more than ready for his new adventure, I also recognize I am more worried that I am the one not ready. As the control freak I know I am, it also tears at my heart-strings knowing whether I want Kindergarten to come or not, it’s not up to me to control. It’s coming for me regardless.
Just a bit ago Kaden, my baby, turned 3. I sometimes wonder if he really is the only 3-year-old (a big 3-year-old mind you) who gets carted around often by his mothers choice because he is my “baby.” He’s a pretty big baby. He wears big boy “underwears,” is potty trained, can drop in by himself and ride the entire track at a BMX park on a strider, and yet, I feel the need to cart him around occasionally just because.
These emotions feel so intensely personal, even though I know many other parents have walked in my shoes before. Cherish each second. Each hug. Each kiss. Each scrape and bruise. Breathe it. Roll in it. Dance in it. Sit silently with it.
Babies grow up.
Though this post is less about remembering a particular moment, it certainly speaks to my current emotions. A little self reminder to bask in every single moment.
Let’s live in the present, because it escapes us quicker than we even realize.