The other night while I was out for a chilly tricycle ride with the girls I ran into my neighbor who commented " Oh I'm sure you're glad to have them out of that stroller". I felt like I had been stabbed. Really. I miss those days. Those two sweet girls in the double stroller. I got some sustained cardio for sure but I'm reminded that I wished it away at the time.
Looking through all of my photos for a picture of Betsy I saw some photos made on hard, trying days.
But there were so many more days that were sweet and lazy. I'm afraid of the school year/organized sports/ I'm too cool for you Mom years . kindergarten. I want to savor the minutes. the days. the mornings of jammies till Sesame street, just wandering around the neighborhood trying to find something to do.
My mom tried to tell me that these are the the best years of my life. Why is that so hard to recognize when you are in the midst of it?