Tonight I watched my daughter dance in her first talent show. As she twirled across the stage with several other girls, I gulped and thought - my baby is all grown up. I remember when she was a roly-poly infant, giggly toddler and then petulant preschooler. Now she is still babyfaced but her features are solidfying into the girl she's going to become. She still plays with cars on an imaginary track on the carpet but she also tells me that I should wear my black shorts instead of my white ones. It's not just my girl, both my children are growing up quickly. My toddler boy's chubbie (very bite-able) legs are thinning out (oh no!) and he's starting to run (oh shit!). Time is speeding up. Time is weird. During the afternoon usually around 4 p.m. - time slows to a crawl - I can practically hear the ants outside my window yawn. But one day you look at your kids and say - what the hell happened to my babies?! And these are the babies that you complain about to your friends over wine when you are alone.
I do bitch and moan about how hard childrearing is - how hard it is to run a house - to keep on top of everything but when I look at my kids and see how fast they are growing - I just want to press the pause button, take them into my arms, hug them and freeze that moment when they are in my arms, they smell so sweet/fresh, they smile at my silly jokes and they are so innocent. I will always treasure this time in my life when I was turning 40 - my daughter was a fairy princess and my little boy ran from me with his saggy diaper butt. Ah, the bitter with the sweet.
