My baby is now thirty-five.
Now seriously, how'd that happen?
Just yesterday he crawled along
and played in his small playpen.
My other baby is twenty-eight.
She married last September.
Just yesterday she sucked her thumb,
her left one, I remember.
The years have glided by.
That's why a man so wise
once coined the oft-used phrase:
"My how time flies!"
My kids are all grown up now,
each live in a distant city,
fully engaged in their adult lives...
but they still call me "mommy"!
I wrote this poem two years ago. It needs updating because that thirty-five year old is getting married today (I am a little busy, so I prepared this post in advance). "Is this the little boy I carried?" are the lyrics that are streaming through my mind. Yes it is, but he is all grown up and bringing a lovely young woman into our family circle.
Who agrees that life speeds by so quickly? Do you find it more difficult to stay close? Anyone else still called "mommy'?