As the Mother's Day festivities and social media well-wishes come to a close, I find myself thinking about how much things have changed since my daughter and son were born umpteen years ago. On Facebook, I saw pictures of an old friend's children--and I did not recognize them. Of course, it makes sense since I haven't seen them since they were toddlers, but it made me think.
Parents tell time using the yardstick of children. We watch our children grow up in such small increments that we don't notice that the infant is no more, then the toddler, then the child. I remember thinking one day as I watched my son hanging onto furniture in his first attempts at walking, that one day this little baby would no longer be. He is now a strong young man, and has the walking thing down pretty well. I had the same thought with my daughter as we went for a really slow toddler walk one day. I remember she was wearing bright pink corduroy overalls and picking at dandelion fluff. And now we prepare for graduation.
I really don't think it gets any easier; it's just that our children's needs change. And we are required to change along with them whether we are ready or not. Then suddenly there it is, that wisp of a mother's lament as we smile at the memory of fat cheeks and drool. I am beginning to understand that one day being a grandmother will be a wonderful thing.