A biting wind blows outside as we all sleep in. The lake level has risen from last night’s thunderstorm. Before breakfast, we look outside to find that brand new snow has settled on distant Alpine caps.
“Snow!” the children cry, “Hurrah! It’s winter, it’s winter!”
“Not quite yet,” I tell them. “We haven’t had autumn yet.”
How has time slipped away so fast?
If being a parent has taught me anything, it’s the swiftness of that time. And that childhood is the shortest season.
Sometimes you want your kids to grow up instantly. Other days, you look back and see how much they’ve changed and grown. And then you wish to slow time down.
Blink, and you’ll miss their childhood. Rush, and you run past life.
This week, I’m trying to hold on to that summer magic a little longer.
I wished I’d been more present, listened to my kids more clearly, held them tighter, taught them more. Yelled a lot less.
When their dad had days off from work, he made the most of it with the kids. I’m so glad they have him for adventures!
Today, I’m counting with the kids, all the things we did together as a family this summer. Our list went way beyond 50, but these are the ones that were free.
Because it’s really true, those kind are the best.
“I do not miss childhood, but I miss the way I took pleasure in small things, even as greater things crumbled. I could not control the world I was in, could not walk away from things or people or moments that hurt, but I took joy in the things that made me happy.”–Neil Gaiman