Then and Now

This is to the mom at Wegman's today. You were having lunch with your four children, all little. You chatted with them. You had to tell the toddler to stop touching her brother's food. You had to promise another slice of pizza. You juggled a baby in your lap. Your oldest boy took the antics off his siblings in stride. 

I saw you and I smiled. I helped you clear your table. I know these days. Heck, I still have three little ones under five years old. 

But I have time. Time that seemed to pass slowly at first. Time marked by stinky diapers and tantrums, and first words and learning how to walk. But now? It flies by me, I can hardly keep up. 

Tomorrow my second child turns eighteen. Eighteen. She is grown up and beautiful and so loved by little sisters and brothers. 

I know you are tired mom. I know today at least two of those darlings were supposed to be in school. I told you it's okay. You'll survive this time. You'll look at your husband much too soon and wonder how it is you have adult children already. I know you said this was it, your limit. I know. It's okay. 

But for today I want you to know this. Your oldest? He is sweet. I could see by his easy smile and how he was ready to chat with me. Those middle cuties, they will be best friends before you know it. And that baby? She is stinking cute. Hold on tight, mom. It will go too fast. I promise.