Sometimes Pete and I look at each other and trip out. we have four kids. It's crazy how you have a baby, then you have another baby and so on, then suddenly you have four kids.
In one moment I can look at them and think they're so grown up that i can hardly breathe. But then in another moment i see them in such a different light – i see Rip's pudgy hands with dimpled knuckles and sigh in relief that he's still a baby. Or I'll look at Reef and the big boy before my eyes suddenly becomes my little boy curled in my lap with a book.
It's such a push/pull. I want them to grow and thrive and flourish and become who they're meant to be – and it's my life's biggest joy to watch. But i wish i could bottle them up, preserve them as is forever. Or at least slow the clock down. way, way down.
But since the clock seems to be doing the very opposite, i try to soak them in as thoroughly as possible, smother them with smooches and postpone laundry folding in favor of spontaneous cuddle parties instead.