Stumbled upon this photo from the archives. At first, I wondered if I was dressed up as the Morton Salt girl for Halloween. Nope, just my rainy day get-up circa 1978.
Mini Whipped started preschool this week and I have felt sappier than an oozing maple. Time goes too fast. I know it is cliche to bemoan how quickly your children grow up but I really can’t believe it was nearly 3 1/2 years ago that she clutched this little whisk. Not long after, she enjoyed her first bites of food and a year after her birth, she ate cake for the first time. Today, on her second day of preschool, Mini Whipped ate only two bites of her breakfast before she excitedly asked to be excused so she could go pack her backpack. She is ready and eager for her daily flights out of the nest.
I always assumed that when I was a mom and “older” that I would FEEL older. But, my own memories of childhood are still so clear. I can remember my own initial days of preschool. I can picture the classroom and I remember meeting my first best friend during registration. When I look at this old photo, time folds back flexibly like a ribbon and I can smell the rain on my lawn and see my back door through the eyes of the child in the yellow polka-dot rain coat.
There are times that I ache to return to the past. If I could just swim in my back yard pool one more time (my parents no longer live in the house and it has been filled in.) I want to sit on my Dad’s lap at the head of the formal dining room table after a big Thanksgiving meal. I want to find my secret, daily note in my lunch box from my mom. I want to have a sleepover in my brother’s room while my parents host a dinner party. I want to hold tiny, little Mini Whipped in my arms.
No matter how hard we try to slow or stop the metronome of time, it will keep on ticking at the same pace. It’s best to accept it, appreciate every day and be thankful for every minute we have. I’ll get back to that place soon but for this week, I’ll continue nurturing my nostalgia.