Reflections
Over the last couple of days I've had the opportunity to observe my oldest and admire just how much she has grown. Particularly as it gets down to 3 weeks before her 17th birthday, I am reminded how much she means to me, and how in a very quick minute I will have to let her go out on her own into the world. That thought alone is probably the scariest I've considered in quite some time, and even though I know that I've prepared, and continue to prepare her adequately for what she may be up against, it is a hard fact to come to grips with.
In fact, they all are growing so quickly that I at times need a freeze frame remote so that perhaps I can catch up on all the things that I still haven't been able to give them yet, the things that when I was a single parent just couldn't be done, the things that I'm still trying to get to. But unfortunately life doesn't work that way, and while I know that none of them have been grossly deprived of anything, I am convinced that it is ingrained in the minds of true parents to always want to have been able to do more.
I look at my babies, sometimes wondering why they thought it was ok to drink all my juice, or if they thought maybe anybody else in the house had to eat, or if perhaps one day I won't have to hunt around the house for my lotion, or perfume, or toothpaste. But most of the time I look at them with a sense of pride that is scarcely containable. They are my greatest works of art, the best thing I've ever done in this life, and for as much as I want to hold on to them forever, I am slowly realizing that I am soon going to have to open my hands...and let them go.
In fact, they all are growing so quickly that I at times need a freeze frame remote so that perhaps I can catch up on all the things that I still haven't been able to give them yet, the things that when I was a single parent just couldn't be done, the things that I'm still trying to get to. But unfortunately life doesn't work that way, and while I know that none of them have been grossly deprived of anything, I am convinced that it is ingrained in the minds of true parents to always want to have been able to do more.
I look at my babies, sometimes wondering why they thought it was ok to drink all my juice, or if they thought maybe anybody else in the house had to eat, or if perhaps one day I won't have to hunt around the house for my lotion, or perfume, or toothpaste. But most of the time I look at them with a sense of pride that is scarcely containable. They are my greatest works of art, the best thing I've ever done in this life, and for as much as I want to hold on to them forever, I am slowly realizing that I am soon going to have to open my hands...and let them go.