Time Flies

Time Flies. They say. I know it has in my little world, with the clock ticking and tocking, it moves even when I don't. You my precious little baby boy are sleeping, indulging in your morning nap. And you don't even know you're indulging. Something you won't know until you're about 25 years older than you are now.

I know.

That time.

Will go quickly.

As quick as water down the drain, and smoke up the chimney. As quickly as $2.69 per gallon of gasoline goes through a 22.4 mpg car.

So my big little man, we will try to slow it down. We won't hurry. We will try not to scurry, and just take
one
step
at a
time.

Sometimes I want to wake you up from a nap, so I can see you smile, laugh and bat your hands at your toys, picking them up and gumming them. But I know you need your sleep, because, did you know you GROW in your sleep?

Yep. And your daddy weighed you yesterday. Twenty pounds. No wonder I can hardly pick you up when you're in the car seat. Sheesh. But you're not fat, not even a bit chubby as babies go. You're lean. Like your daddy.

So, back to

TIME.

It has wings. It flies. You'll see. One day you won't be able to reach the sink, then one day, you will. And you'll hardly have blinked your eyes.

I love you Eddie, I love you all the time in the world. All the hours, minutes and seconds. With wings.

Love, Mommy