its amazing to me how time works. we wish the days away and beg for them back all in the same breathe. it is a blessing that we don't have control over these things.

Spring is my favorite season. I'm a May baby! Spring in New England is simply beautiful. Life comes back to the earth after the cold gray winter and even the muddy brown that covers everything changes to the bright green of fresh grass. It is a miracle in its most basic form. and yet, with my job, i miss most of spring. the first beautiful weekend of the year just causes my heart to beat a little faster as i realize that reunion is coming and I'm giving up everything that i know for the next few months to make an amazing weekend for a few thousand people. i miss sunny mother's days in the yard with my little boy. i miss first trips to the zoo. i miss my birthday each and every year. its fine-its my life and i do really like my job. but it is the same job that makes me dream of June, so it will all be over and I can think again about more than swipe cards and media and memorial services and the mean and drunk people who i will make jokes about for the rest of the summer. so at the same time, I am begging for more days between that first sunny weekend and June so I can get it all done and I wish for the days to be done so I can be through it all and back with my family.

I face this same dichotomy in other aspects of my life right now, oh so many other aspects. I dream of the day Grant will be potty trained, sleep in a big boy bed, color in the lines, things like that. And I am desperate for him to never be able to say "I'm Funny" instead of "Me Funny Mama!". I can't wait to see the little man he'll become and I never want him to stop being my baby. And what I find truly amazing is I see him having the same debate. He'll tell you he's a big boy, a little boy, or a baby depending on how he's feeling. he is at the "me do!" phase and then will turn in an instant and put his arms up for you to pick him up and hold him close and make it all better. He is excited to put on his own shoes and buckle his own car seat (yes, we do it with him!) and yet wants you to help him get dressed each morning. I wonder if he is picking up on my feelings of wanting time to fly by and stand still simultaneously or if I'm picking up on what is a normal part of growing up. and maybe he isn't the only one growing up, maybe I'm still growing up too. but all i know is I want to hold on to each day of his childhood with two hands. and i want to never get to a place where I'm "Mom" instead of "Mama or Mommy". Mom is the one who drives you to lacrosse practice and drops you off the block so none of your friends see. Mama and Mommy can kiss boo boos, and read stories about the moon. Mama sings Super Why each night at bedtime to make you smile and covers you with a blanket each night on the way to bed. And so I'll take every day of hell that comes in Spring for me just so these days don't fly by. I'll hope he remembers these days with fondness-even though eventually these days will leave his memory completely. But that feeling of happiness that comes when you think of your childhood is the job of a mama, and I will work hard to never let him down.