This Piece of Time

16 days.  That's all I have.  16 days until my baby girl goes back to school.  Last summer I was ready for school.  I was excited to enter a year of structure and routine.  After Christmas break I was ready.  You may remember that from here .  As of today, I am not ready.  I'm anxious.  This hasn't happened since the first day of Kindergarten.  This summer has gone entirely too fast.  We haven't gotten all of the things done that we planned.  The list that we made at the beginning of the summer is still full of activities we have yet to cross off.  Our time is running out and the calender is filling up.  I want to freeze time and clear our schedule.  I want to drink in every precious second with my little girl.  A little girl who has blossomed over the last year.  Maybe that is the core reason I am so sad to let her go.  Paige has changed.  She is talking.  To people.  Without being forced.  If you know her, you understand.  Last week at the arcade, her game didn'

I would never want to have a recording of all the things I say in a day.  Most days there would be a whole list I'd like to take back.  Then sometimes, it seems like I am being recorded.  Three little mouths begin to speak back the words they hear each day.  Other than a random "What in the heck of the world?!?"  I have yet to be offended.  I'm certain that will change.  For now, I'll let my children do the talking. Emerson while walking around the house hitting things with a foam bat... "Dis is dangerous!  Dis is not safe, Bookyn!  Dis is dangerous!" Paige giving Brooklyn one of the erasers she had picked out at Target "You can have one and that's it.  I don't want to hear any complaining about it.  Do you understand?" Brooklyn after deciding to put back 2 of the 3 things she wanted to buy "That was a wise choice!" Paige teasing Adam while trying to get him to put down the tailgate on truck "You put it down or I am go

"This pool is shady.  I NEED sun, so get back over here!" she scorned.  A mom who's little girl just wanted to play with her friend.  A mom who couldn't see past her need for perfect tan lines.  A mom who was missing the joy of vacation and was, in turn, stealing it from her daughter. My heart breaks.  I wish I could make her see just how much she is missing.  I wish her daughter could spend an afternoon with a mom who was completely engaged.  I wish she could know the joy of splashing with her children.  The memories that far outlast a tan.  I've traded pina coladas for snow cones, novels for sand castles, and late nights for early mornings.  My tan lines aren't even, my people watching has been narrowed to three little ones, and more money was spent at The Children's Place than Banana Republic.  Vacation has changed.  It's not that I have given up on any of the original ways of vacation.  They are certainly more relaxing, but there will be time