Saturday, December 3, 2011

Of Long Days and Short Years

And so time passes. It seems like just yesterday I was on the couch with a brand new baby in my arms, just reveling in all her perfect little details. Amazed and awed at this new life.

We're just past the fourth trimester, my baby and I. She rolled over for the first time last night. Her head doesn't need to be supported that much anymore. She pulls herself in the swing and makes faces at herself in the little mirror. She sucks her thumb as she lies on a soft blanket, surrounded by blocks and books.
She's not such a newborn anymore, I measure her age in months now, not weeks.

I've read it several times this past week, a saying that rings so true. 

The days are long but the years are short.

These days of busy little girls, of diapers and naps and schedules and strollers. These times of having my arms full, of balancing baby and toddler, of being told 'oh, you must be busy', of being frustrated and enthralled at the same time, they won't be here forever.

And so I try to embrace it all.  Even when both girls are crying and it's past their bedtime and they really should be exhausted by all the energy they've put out. I stop and I sing, holding my baby with one hand and stroking my toddler's hair with the other.

 These are the moments that I will remember.

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