The other day I woke up in the middle of the night to feed Flora. She’s woken up and needed to nurse to feel soothed. As I sat in the gold chair in her room, I rocked her and held her little tiny hand. I thought about how mind blowing it is to me that somehow she’s already one. That was a very fast year. Her tiny little fingers wrapped around my finger and I rubbed her hands between my fingers. She’s so small and precious. I soaked her in, because I know how this works.. you blink and the next thing you know, your kids are a whole other year older.

I laid her back into her crib then popped into my boys shared bedroom to check on them before I went back to bed. Harrison’s arm was hanging off of his bed in a weird angle, so I grabbed his hand to lay it back on the bed. As I grabbed his hand, I literally froze. I sat there and held his hand for a moment, rubbing it between my fingers. I was just thinking about how fast Flora was growing and how her small little hands were growing every day. Now I was holding my five and a half year olds hands which suddenly felt enormous. There were little scratches and blisters on his hands from all the playing he does. He has big boy hands. Once, they were just like Flora’s.

Time flies. I keep seeing the phrase that, “time is a thief,” or hearing moms telling their little ones to, “never grow up,” and I get it. Man, do I get it. These moments are precious. This phase of life is pure magic. They’re only little so long. They’re only you’re small child for so many years…

But a few months ago I was reading a post on Instagram from the point of view of a father who had a young son pass away at two years old after a courageous battle with cancer. In his post, he told people to stop wishing for your children not to grow up. Stop mourning stages passing. Because someone out there is wishing that they could have watched their child grow up.

I’ve thought about this post so frequently. I see both sides. I truly do. And while I’ll never totally be a-ok with my kids growing up so wildly fast, and fearing that I’m not living in the moment enough, I’m choosing to be so grateful for all of this. I’m grateful I get to watch my kids grow. I’m grateful that time is passing and that we get to pass the time together.

And I’m so very grateful that I’ll be able to hold their hands, in all of their sizes, as it happens.