Can someone please tell me

When did this


become this?



And when did this little cutie




Turn into this beautiful creature?



And this one



Become a man?


The journey of mothering is a rolling stone on a hill,
Continually gathering speed.
The clumps of grass, the tree trunks, and hillocks
Only serve to pause the journey for the shortest of moments--
Perhaps just long enough to snap a photo
and freeze the instant in time.
And then the stone races on,
closer and closer...

To what?

The end of mothering,
as the fledglings fly.


This entry was posted on 7:37 PM and is filed under , , . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

5 comments:

    thehappilyeverafter said...

    Now that just makes me feel really old...i held your oldest when he was just a baby. Time sure flies!

  1. ... on January 18, 2011 at 9:11 PM  
  2. Joan said...

    So true Christina. Ever since the boys started school I've said there are four seasons:

    School year begins
    Christmas
    Spring Break
    School Ends.
    and then they get another year older, how else did they all get so big?

  3. ... on January 19, 2011 at 7:16 AM  
  4. christina said...

    I know you're out there, you mom's in the same boat! Can you give me a little inspiration-perspective-hope?
    Christina

  5. ... on January 19, 2011 at 10:21 AM  
  6. christina said...

    You're not old, baby. I held YOU when you were just a baby!

  7. ... on January 20, 2011 at 7:33 AM  
  8. christina said...

    And Joan-you are spot on. Too fast, too fast...

  9. ... on January 20, 2011 at 7:35 AM