Last week, I sat with my youngest daughter as she went through the sacrament of Reconciliation. For those of you who are non-Catholics, it our version of confession and proceeds First Holy Communion. It was a big day for her and marks the approach of an even bigger day. However for me it was a day of recognizing that my children are growing up. Isn’t it amazing when you have that moment every so often? The moment when something makes you realize that time if passing quickly and our children are only small for a short period of time? Eighteen years seems like so much time when you are holding that small bundle of needs. There are days that seem to never end like when they have a cold or are throwing up hourly. There are nights that seem endless when they are teething and can’t sleep. Yet somehow time goes by and a lot quicker than we think. Perhaps that’s a gift in itself. If we knew how fast it would all lapse, we might hold on longer to our children styphilling somehow their growth and independence. No, it all happens probably the way it should. Mother Nature always knows best or at least that’s what my mother used to tell me. I just wish I could remember all those small things that I thought I’d never forget. Things like the exact month each of my children learned to walk or the funny phrases each would say at different ages. Morgan my youngest has always had a strong sense of smell and even at 2 years of age would walk around saying, “What’s that ‘mell?” No matter how faint that girl would pick up an odor or scent and bring it to all of our attention. I love however when my children remind me of one some of those precious moments I thought I had engraved in my mind. Just the other day Keenan, my third child, reminded me of the predictions my husband and I used to make about our children. When all four kids were less than four years of age, we made “Most Likely” predications based on their individual personalities. Similar to a high school year book. For instance, Keenan was “Most Likely to Get Bailed Out” and Morgan was “Most Likely to Dance on Broadway or Dance on a Pole.” We were only joking about the latter at the time but if you knew Morgan, you might not be so sure. At two she could put together outfits that would put Paris Hilton and Brittany Spears to shame. She’s all about glamour and all about attitude. And it’s going right to my point. When Keenan reminded me of this game my husband and I used to play together in jest, I was amazed at how close we came to foreseeing their individuality. Keenan is today the 11 year rebel. He came by it honestly as I seem to love to buck the system too. Can’t fault him for it when he learned it from me. He’s the one who when you say, “I heard someone spiked the punch with lemon juice” will automatically say, ‘it wasn’t me’ when you know darn well it was. He is always out for the laugh and I know one day he’ll push it too far testing my years of strict parenting. I guess it’s inevitable that someone will get in trouble regardless of your best efforts. In our house it’s a numbers game. You can’t expect all four to turn our perfect. So as my daughter stood in line to confess her sins to a priest looking unusually angelic, I was silently confessing to myself how I wished I’d spent more time writing all these things down. How I wish I’d taken more pictures, held their hands more often, snuggled in their beds long after they’d fallen asleep and carried them long after they were too heavy. I silently confessed that I felt like time had gone too fast and I would make sure starting today, I would do a better job of trying to savor every minute of the days to come. Even if they were coming too fast.


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