My oldest celebrates her 8th birthday this weekend. Eight years old! Half-way to sixteen!! How did that happen? Last I knew I was walking the living and dining room loop trying to get her to take a nap. And now she’s eight?
It just doesn’t seem fair that I didn’t get more time with her as a toddler and preschooler. She is growing up too quickly and try as I might, I can’t seem to stop her. My mom once said that for her birthday each year, what she wanted was to be able to take one of her kids and spend the day with that child at whatever age she chose. As I was growing up I chalked that up as one more nutty thing that mom said but now as a parent myself, I see exactly what she meant. What I wouldn’t give to go back and spend a day with two-year-old Tori. Fortunately I have many good memories of those days to hold onto.
I remember when Tori was an infant that people would tell me how quickly time passes and to treasure it. I would nod in agreement, but it wasn’t until I turned around and she was turning six, then seven and then eight that I truly realized the wisdom of their words. So if you are rocking a newborn or your back is strained from bending over while helping a new walker, take my word for it, before you know it your little one will be blowing out eight candles on his cake.
While we spend the weekend eating cake, opening presents and celebrating with family and friends, there is a little part of me feeling sad that she is another year older and another year closer to leaving the nest. Happy Birthday dear, sweet Tori! May your day be as special as you are to me.