This is not a news flash. It is well known throughout the generations. When one has an infant, they spend many hours worrying about the infant’s health–if they are thriving–growing–getting enough nutrition. They soon brag about the percentile and what size clothing the baby wears. Next comes the new and interesting things that the baby, then toddler can do. Then there is reading and losing teeth, and before you know, both of your infants are taller than you.
Such is the case at my house. I am trying to get all of my digital photos onto USBs so that I don’t have a catastrophic event and lose them all. Alas, I am also trying to sort through them to delete the ones that aren’t good and to adjust the ones that need some TLC to remove red eyes or lighten a dark shot.
This is dangerous business at the end of the school year. This Momma is worn slap out and is already thinking about what photos to send for Victoria’s “Senior Sunday” slideshow next May. The time. It goes. The kids. They grow–and grow–and grow–and then they go too.
And that is as it should be. If they get stuck, or don’t thrive–if they aren’t successful, then other sadnesses arise. This sadness is a good one. My children are thriving, growing, learning, and they are just such GOOD kids. But, oh, the the sighings of the heart–the tightening of the throat–the loosing of the tears over the discomfort of stretching, stretching apron strings.