For the past few weeks our household has been consumed with the process of moving. I had no idea what an emotional toll (not to mention physical!) it would take - on everyone. Today I have a post on DotMoms (https://roughdraft.typepad.com/dotmoms/2005/12/blink_1.html), which is supremely sappy, but it will show you the over-the-top, melancholy, sentimental mood I am in. I loved our house and our kids loved the house and I miss it. But, mostly, moving just reminds me how fast time goes and how much things change...Here it is, but be sure to visit DotMoms anyway - the link is right there on the left!
Last week we moved from the house we lived in for seven years. I carried three of my four children into that house as infants. My 8-year-old told me the night before we left that moving was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Thank God, but, still, I ached for her. She wrote a letter to the new owners -- "I love this room and please don't change it. If you do, I guess that is OK." -- and when we sat on the floor where her bed used to be and she read it to me, I sobbed right along with her. The whole process of moving has me sentimental and thinking about the insanely fast pace of time. Forgive the sapiness, but, this is for my kids.
I called Grandma and Papa and told them I was going to have a baby. And I blinked and you were here, one by one, all four of you.
I held you as you cried through the first six weeks, a tummy ache, an ear infection, a bad dream, and it seemed like forever. But, then, you slept through the night.
You sat up, crawled, scooted, wobbled, walked and ran. Now it is hard to catch you.
I blinked and we went off to baby classes and preschool and then you got on the school bus and were away all day.
Now you dress yourself, do homework and you don't want me to hug you in front of your friends.
You like loud music and you lock your diary after you write in it.
Soon I will blink and you will want money for jeans and keys to the car. You will want to make your own decisions and won't like some of the things I have to say. You might not think I understand. But I promise I will try.
I will blink again and you will be off to college.
Figuring out who you are.
Exploring the world.
Looking for answers.
Getting a job.
Falling in love.
Someone will ask your dad and me, "Who gives away this child?"
Then, someday, I hope, you will call me and say I am going to be a grandma.
I will cry and you will cry.
Soon enough you will tell me you blinked and time flew.
And I will smile and nod because I understand.