I watched my baby, just one, squeal in delight as she chased the bubbles through the yard, smiling and running as fast as her little legs would take her. My son, her older brother, blew them right into her face and she couldn’t stop giggling. The bubbles glistened, iridescent in the warm summer sun, as they danced on the breeze. The kids found a bright green ball, discarded by my sister’s older children (now almost twelve and fifteen) and decided to make a game of rolling it to one another. The baby leaned on it, trying to grip it, and rolled to the ground, the ball seeming determined to escape the grasp of her chubby fingers. The squealing, the laughing, the pure joy on their faces, these children of mine. I stood and took it all in, trying to commit it to my memory–the first time my children played with a ball and bubbles together, as siblings. The first summer my daughter ran through the grass, wet from a summer storm that had just passed. The first time and certainly not the last time they ran, carefree in my sister’s yard. But these firsts will inevitably change to lasts, eventually. Like the ball escaping my daughter’s fingers, time slips away from me each day, despite my best efforts to hold onto it.
Head over to Parenting.com to read the rest of this one:http://www.parenting.com/parenting-advice/mom/why-i-will-savor-my-kids-firsts
Head over to Parenting.com to read the rest of this one:http://www.parenting.com/parenting-advice/mom/why-i-will-savor-my-kids-firsts
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