Dear Time,

This morning the girls started the day at 6:20am.  For Emery this allows a whole lot of time to do nothing before the bus comes at 7:45.  For Addie it gives a ray of hope on the dismal probability of making it out the door with everything she needs and everything she DOESN'T need.  Emery approached my bedside around 6:30 asking for assistance with her fine locks of dark hair.  I tried to hurry and think of something she could go do so I could go back to bed for an extra 30 minutes.  Nothing came. Apparently my mind does not come up with the best creative notions when the sun is still down.  I slowly planted my feet and consented to Emery's polite request.  I was down in the kitchen by 7am getting the girls breakfast and packing a lone lunch. No double packing today.  Addie was intent on "buying" because frozen sherbet was on the menu. And so the pre-bus loading rituals were in full swing.

Addie bounded down the stairs:  "Addie, is your hair combed?"  Addie said something like, "Darn it!" Addie slowly walked back up the stairs. Emery sat at the table enjoying a pair of English muffins with homemade strawberry jam.  Addie appeared around the corner: "Addie, if you're going to wear boots today you might want socks."  Addie's reply:  "Really? I need socks?"  Addie trudged back up the stairs.  Emery paused on her breakfast to retrieve her jacket and backpack.  Addie arrived once more while I' finished Emery's packed lunch.  She announced she completed all of her morning jobs. I nearly fainted.  She sat down at the table while I asked her what she wanted for breakfast.  She longingly looked at Emery's last English muffin and said, "Oh, I wanted an English muffin, too."  Before I could respond Emery slid her napkin in front of Addie.  A little sister's bright, grateful eyes fell on Emery.  Addie took her first bite, savoring a mouthful of jam and bread and muttered, "thank you."


 As I buttered English muffins my mind flooded with memories of school preparation on chilly Minnesota mornings while my mom stood at the counter preparing someone's breakfast or writing a note for the school secretary.  I recall many times walking quietly to her bedside with a request that would compel her out of bed. She was awake...just waiting.   I am like her. I cannot will myself out of bed until the children come for me. Fortunately they are well trained in getting up early so I can afford to wait.  There is an exhaustion that looms over me.  I am sure my mom often felt she had settled into bed for the night only to wake up for a new day 10 minutes later.  Her hair would be tousled and she was still in her nightgown.  I stand at our front door in my pajamas, tousled hair, and bad breathe while waving to the bus as it passes.  I'm sure the bus driver is starting to wonder if I ever change my pajamas.  I have my favorites and he has them memorized after two years of driving by our home. At least he can't smell my ferocious breath down the driveway.  I missed my mom this morning.  And missing my mom led to missing my siblings who were all around experiencing the same moments with mom on school mornings.   Sometimes it's hard to remember my childhood. It seems the days of pecking my mom on the cheek before the bus was another lifetime ago.  For whatever reason, preparing breakfast flooded my mind with memories of my adolescence.  I realized, after aching for my youth and the comfort of my parents being in charge, that I have so much responsibility now.  

I have to butter English muffins for other people and pack lunches and change diapers and pay bills and do large loads of laundry and attend function thingeys at the elementary school. I'm the one who has to scrub the morning cereal residue off the kitchen table and get the vacuum out to bid farewell to the 15 menacing ants surrounding a minuscule crumb at the bottom of the stairs.  I'm the vomitted carpet treater, the bedtime story reader, and the driving force for piano practicing and teeth brushing.  When did this happen?  I blame it completely on Mr. Handsome. He is, after all the one who asked for my hand in marriage.  I was weak in the knees in love.  When you're in love you eventually end up with kids and a house and a car and a job. 


What is a week or a month or a year?  As a child those time lines felt like forever, but as an adult they are quickly passing minutes ticking away at the youthful hour where my children reside.


I took the boys to the YMCA today.  I finally bought my own pair of swim goggles on clearance at Target.  Yay me.  This was done with the intent to start swimming more consistently.  Today I lasted 35 minutes in the lap lane before a nursery worker approached me and informed me Dashle had drizzled all over his pants while attempting to use the potty.  Girls NEVER have these issues.  Down the sidewalk from the YMCA to the parking lot the boys and I passed an elderly couple who stopped to say "hello" to my little tikes.  The boys are still in training on how to associate enthusiastically with the elderly.  This cute couple was not speed walking into the YMCA as I often do with the boys in tow.  They were at a leisurely pace enjoying the cool air and the warm sunshine and along their way happened across two happy bounding boys aiming for the parking lot to be run over by a young mom, (like me), who is in a hurry.  That older couple must miss being the age of my boys sometimes or at least miss their children who were once young and adventurous little spirits.  I assume this because they were extremely delighted to stoop down and speak with D and C despite the boys screeching...something about "stranger danger," I think.  

Time is moving too quickly.  Emery is already 8 and was baptized last June.  Shyler and I recently hit the big 10 in marriage.  Coy certainly isn't a baby anymore and Dashle insists daily he is a big boy who is bigger than his dad.  Addie wants to do everything Emery does even though some things have age restrictions...as in she must be 8 in order to do it.  When I tell her to not grow up too fast it only makes her mad.  


Time is thrusting forward even though I beg it to just wait a minute.

Explanation of pictures:  Emery's baptism day, first day of school, flowers from Mr. Handsome for 10 years of bliss, white water rafting/zip lining 3-day adventure in West Virginia.(We decided to act young and irresponsible to celebrate our anniversary and we loved every minute of it!).