I so miss my little baby girls. I mean, I don’t love my grown up girls any less than I loved my baby girls, but I can’t help but feel sad when I think how that time in their lives is gone forever.
I miss helping put on their shoes and arguing about having another cookie. I want to be able to pick them up and toss them up in the air to make them squeal like I used to do. I even miss cleaning up their messes . . . . . Actually, I don’t have to miss cleaning up their messes very much, they are sixteen and eighteen and I’m still cleaning up their messes.
But then we will spend time with a friend or family member who has young children. I get dizzy watching them chase their children around trying to keep them from getting into, getting on, swallowing, and breaking things. I can’t imagine how I ever had the energy to make it through this age with my own two children.
It leaves me with an odd combination of both sadness and relief…
Same here….mine is 18. Drama, drama….but no dirty diapers.
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The grass is always greener . . . . . sigh.
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It is a bitter sweet time that’s not over just yet. You still have them home, can hear their voices in and around the house. When the silence comes, well…..
Treasure these moments.
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I dread the silence.
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Have you listened to “Butterfly Kisses” recently?
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I’m not the biggest country fan, but that song does get me a little choked up.
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