My snuggly little boys are no longer. They have emerged into young men who are now taller than me.
Elmo replaced by ear buds. Begging to read Brown Bear Brown Bear, What Do You See? has turned into their school-required reading.
I am no longer able to sneak cottage cheese into their diets. (To be honest, I cannot believe I not only got away with it at any point, but even wanted to. I loathe the smell, texture and look- how did I expect my babies to eat such a food?)
The sweet smelling, freshly bathed Johnson and Johnson babies now walk out of the shower smelling like an Old Spice store exploded. (And on other occasions-like a bad gym locker room.)
The days are long but the years are short cliche is accurate as hell.
I have two high schoolers who are in the throws of attitude. And by attitude I mean all conversations are now down to one word answers.
and the occasional three word sentence :”I don’t care.”
They arrive home from school to eat and then disappear into their rooms until it’s time to…you guessed it, eat again. And then to disappear into their rooms again.
Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
If it’s a good day I will hear about a recent test score, homework assignments or a rare “Can I go somewhere?” question. My mom friends who have daughters are living in a completely different country than I am. They talk about emotions, tears, and oversharing. What I would not do for some oversharing. And an emotion?
Once in a while the children I know will emerge. A glimpse of a childhood giggle or the need for mom to help with something. They are good kids. I could not be prouder.
But I long for an “I love you Mommy.”
Hold onto those long days, moms of little ones.
Those years are really, really short.
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