:-)

"Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift. That's why it's called the present."

We've probably all heard this quote at some point in our lives. I'm more than a little ashamed to admit that I very rarely live by it. At almost every period of my life, I can remember wishing that time would speed up. I'm almost always looking forward to the next big "thing": the next season, the next trip, even the next weekend. In grade school, I couldn't wait for middle school. In middle school, I dreamed about highschool. In highschool, I fantasized about college. I've always been that way, one foot in the present and the other perched precariously on the edge of something that hasn't even happened yet, but in my mind must be minutely more meaningful.

It feels almost deliriously wonderful to be standing still, for nearly the first time in my life. I am living in every moment of this summer. I'm not looking forward, I'm not looking back. If anything, I am a tiny bit terrified of this fall, sending my babies both off to school. That's a milestone for a mother too, isn't it? I'm excited for them, but I'm certainly not wishing that September would hurry on up.

Maybe it has something to do with being on the verge of 31, a number that feels somehow infinitely older than 30. Maybe it is because my children are just so much fun to be around right now. They are in that wonderful stage where they want to be with me, be in my presence, but don't need my undivided attention every minute of the day. It's my absolute favorite time since becoming a mother, a time that I've dreamed and fantasized about for so long that now that it's here, I just don't want time to keep marching on. But I can feel it, tick tick ticking away, every minute like a grain of sand in an hourglass that I'll never flip over.

Today I will drink pink lemonade. I will watch my littles ride their bikes. I will sing songs and dance dances. I will push swings. I will feel the sun on my face. I will feel the wind whip through my hair with the car windows down. I will hold tiny hands, and try not to think about how they feel a bit bigger than last week. I will be present in the present, because it is my gift.