Why we can't blink

I wipe down the counter tops in my kitchen, and breathe in the stillness after a busy day.  Cups, napkins, and cupcake wrappers are strewn across the kitchen.  I am standing in the after math of a great birthday party.  Friends and family came to celebrate the littlest daughter's third birthday.

My daughter was delightful.  She squealed in joy when each person came in the door.  She embraced everyone in excitement.  She didn't even care about the presents-at least- not until I told her she could open them.  I love that about her.  I love that she is so open with her joy, and her lovely heart.

As I stand here wiping down the counters I see the "3" candle that we used for each of the girls sitting on the counter.  Bits of frosting, and cupcake crumbs cover the base of the candle, with a few teeth marks where they have licked off the candle after blowing it out.    Suddenly, it hits me.  I don't need that candle anymore.  I don't need the tiny candles, I don't need a diaper bag, I don't need little white stride rites for my girls to take their first steps in.  That is all done.  I don't have any babies anymore.  I don't even have a toddler anymore.

It has all gone by so incredibly fast, and I know that time isn't slowing down.  I am so thankful that I have gotten to stay home with them through all the important milestones.  That I have gotten to go to the concerts, and the school parties, and all the swimming lessons.  I realize, it is so important that I continue to savor all the moments.  To be in the moment with my girls.    Because if I blink those moments are gone.  

But today, as I clean out my diaper bag for good, and as my daughter hands me her pacifiers and tells me she doesn't need them anymore I am feeling like- I shouldn't have blinked.