Seasons

Every year, I swear I'm going to catch it happening.

I'll see some red or yellow here or there and then seemingly overnight, the green is gone, the leaves have changed and fall is here. I miss it every year. I haven't decided if it's because it truly does happen overnight, or if it's so gradual that I don't notice the changes taking place right before my eyes.

Last weekend, I was with the girls at a local craft fair. A complete stranger stopped to comment on them (I guess they're cute?) and then went on to say what I've been hearing for five years now: "Oh enjoy them, they grow so fast. Mine used to be that little." For the last five years, I've been nodding politely when I hear this but not really believing it. To be perfectly honest, I don't even remember life before children. Five years has, at times, felt like an eternity. Like when someone is puking on me or shooting poop across the room during a diaper change. Or throwing crayons in church (which, by the way, is NOT the ideal time to realize your kid has a great arm.) Or when your newborn wakes up AGAIN--and you immediately start crying because you just don't think you can do it anymore. But you do. And somehow, it's five years later, and you realize those strangers might know what they're talking about after all. It DOES go fast. You can't see it happening, you can't see them changing and growing, but one day you turn around and your babies aren't babies anymore. The newborn phase, the puke, the poop--it all ends. (Notice I didn't say the crayon throwing. We still have a few Sundays where she breaks that out. Sigh.) But like everything else, this too shall pass. I know that too soon the day will come when I'm telling some frazzled, exhausted (and not convinced) mom that it goes fast. I need to remember to stop focusing so much on the trees' new colors, and enjoy the changes it took to get there. Even though I missed it again this fall, there's always next year. But my girls will never be as little as they are today. And those are changes worth noticing.