…and it begins.





In the first post I ever wrote, I told you how a stranger warned me not to blink or it would be over.  At the time, I was struggling through the “Terrible Threes” with my Jacky.  I told you that I wasn’t going to wish the time away because I knew it he wouldn’t stay little for long.  I promised myself I wouldn’t blink.


But I did.


I blinked.


And it’s over.


My baby boy, the one who first gave me the title of “Mommy,” started Kindergarten today.  He is officially in school.  Sure, he went to daycare, and even Pre-K, but for some reason, this is just …different.  He’s a big kid now.  And I start to question…


How did I do raising a newborn?  A toddler?  A pre-schooler?


Was he aware I had post-partum depression the first year of his life?  Did that affect him?  Why did it take so long for me to adjust to my new lifestyle?  Why didn’t it come naturally to me?  Why did I spend so much time complaining about being tired?  And the Terrible Threes?  And the whining?  Why was I relieved to go to work because being at home with a baby was harder than going to the office?


Did I give him enough attention?  Too much attention?  Was I too lenient with him?  Too hard on him?


Did I love him enough?


All these questions scream at me in my head and I’ll never know the answer.  All I can do is look forward with the knowledge that time goes fast.  I mean, really fast.  “The days are long but the years are short.”  Man, is that true.


I came across this poem that I wanted to share with you.  Take a second to read it.

Then read it again.



From now on, I am going to try and live this.  Always appreciating, always paying attention.


So, listen.  Truthfully (because you know I am always truthful with you), I’ll still complain about the sleepless nights and the tantrums and the fighting, but, while in the midst of the chaos, I promise you, I will pay attention.  I now know that when people say “don’t blink” they mean it.  You might miss something.  And even if you never blink again, time has a way of slipping away, no matter how hard you try to hold on.