The Time of our Lives

Ever since K was born, I have been truly enjoying every minute of our lives. Okay, not every minute, exactly, but the general moment in which we exist. I can actually remember her being four months and M being two and thinking that I would freeze them right then and there for the rest of our lives, I was so blissfully satisfied. And I still am. I love that I feel this way, because I know that I am concentrating on what we have, without looking forward or back too much, and getting the most out of it as a result.

But you know what sucks? It doesn't make time go any slower. No matter how much I can love this time, absolutely relishing in it like a hot pig in cold mud, it doesn't change the fact that each minute still passes away in sixty unforgiving seconds.

I was driving home with the kids, the car warm in the sun, after having a fun morning with friends and a picnic lunch with B. We pulled into the drive talking about our daily video and nap/rest time, and it struck me, rather sharply, that these days are numbered. M will be in preschool three days come fall, and then, one year later, he will be in kindergarten and K will be in preschool.

M and I have spent so much time together these past three and half years. We have discovered so many new things, including K, and the three of us have made so many great friends and happy memories. I feel lonely already to think of them in school, those days behind us, our lives no longer so flexible and free.

I know that I will have other fun things to look forward to, that each stage brings its own blessings to replace the passing of other joys. But it is sad, too, to realize that no matter how I can enjoy this time, I can never enjoy it enough.