Where Did The Time Go?

Look at those pudgy cheeks and milky skin. This picture brings a flood of warm tears and a wave of fun remember-whens. Flashes of naked butts slip-sliding across the kitchen floor with butter and snorts of laughter as they told me a pound of butter tickled if you greased your skin with it. They were making pancakes, after all. Or the smell of nasty when I came home from work to find my husband soaking every toy they had in bleach water in the tub because Nick took off his diaper and the two boys painted the room and each other  with it. The little spot on Nick’s lips that was the only clear place because his brother also gave him a poo-poo facial. Or how Cilla played with the boys by giving them a chunk-chick-slam (Her dive bombing them from any furniture while the boys were on the floor watching television or playing with toys.

It seems like yesterday.

Oh, God, where did the time go?

With each milestone my children reach, an adjustment must be made to accommodate. In the last month my family has gone through an adjustment.

My oldest son resigned his first job (which he held for a year) over principle. I’m rather proud of him. Yes, I know that sounds crazy to be proud that he no longer is employed, but there are very few reasons to sacrifice your integrity for a job and there is no better feeling to a young man than planting his man-feet for the first time. My second son graduated high school. My girls went away for an entire month…longer than they have ever been away. Oh, and Peyton is squeaking like a proper pre-teen boy.

Have I mentioned that we are all training as a family so the two oldest can go away to boot-camp or how Cilla tells me she would also like to go next year? That will be three gone in a little over a year. Little more than a blink.

Oh, God, where did all the time go?

As I sit here and ponder where it went, I know the answer. It went into loving them into adulthood. Making memories they will carry throughout their lives and share with their own children one day. Oh, it hurts to know I have to let them go. It rips my heart to know I can’t keep them for myself.

But more than that, more than the ache I feel, I have pleasure as my heart swells… knowing that I am giving my children back to God. He is the rightful owner.When the time comes, I happily yield to that.

Peace, Love, and God’s will.

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