I don’t know that I’ll ever find the words to fully articulate what happened this week.
Jane is growing, she’s within four inches of my height, and her hand mirrors mine when we clasp hands. She’s very much a child at just eleven, but wants desperately to be older. There is a new connection, a maturity in conversation. She’s silly, she’s little, but she’s stretching to ask me about more adult things, and she’s becoming very fashion conscious.
Alexander too is changing. He’s my sporty little boy, who wants nothing more than to be just like his father, but I looked at him this week through the lens of a camera and there were no round cheeks. My son has cheekbones.
There is no one little and round in my home any more. They’re still little, don’t get me wrong, I’m smack dab in the middle of parenting little kids.
But this week I clung to my kids, because we are wrapping up early childhood, and clearly moving to new phases. I love this, I love them, and for the first time in a very long time I’m not afraid of how quickly it all moves.