How quickly
How quickly we have moved from long days of Doc McStuffins and Dora
To drivers permits and texting
From small pudgy moccasin-clad feet
To sharing size 8 sneakers
From nursing snuggles and chopping fruit into small chunks so as not to choke tiny throats
To coffee shop dates and rare and elusive hugs-begrudgingly given
They really do move from marshmallow rolls on perfect cherub wrists
To strong arms and legs and soft tender feelings cloaked in sarcasm and sass
They say it moves fast—and they are right
How to make it last?
Love them at every stage
Kiss their ouchies and snuggle through tears
Hold their small hands as much as you can
Their hands will match yours soon enough
Then let them be angry at you—love them through the uncertain and hard worn paths of youth
They will come back to you
If you trust them. Love them.
They are both the small squishy babe and the tall, lengthy teen
Soon to be the towering, formidable woman
They are both yours and not
They are their own
Singular, Unique and perfect
How quickly it goes
How quickly
They grow
I am determined not to let the difficulties of the world overwhelm me and distract me from one of the most important things. Being a mother to my children. I wrote this poem the other day while I was thinking that by the time we elect a new President, my oldest will be graduating high school. I will not lose precious time with her these next few years by allowing myself to be dragged down into despair.
Let’s keep reaching for each other,
Stef
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