I can’t stop this forward motion. Every day my daughters are growing. Unneeded step stools litter the hall. Audrey can feed the fish by herself and Olivia no longer listens to me read to her. Instead, she reads to me.
Every new school year just reminds me how fleeting their childhoods are. Four and six. Still so little, but weren’t they just a newborn and 22 months old? Spoon-feeding sweet potatoes and mixing formula?
Everyone always says to enjoy every moment and I always feel guilty because there are plenty of moments I have not, do not and likely will not enjoy, but the reason behind the advice rings all too true.