Hold on, time. When did my babies get so big? My smallest "baby" is seven, my eldest nineteen. I'm hearing a lot more "Hold this while I go off to do..." I'm just waiting on "Hold my beer!" The wailing "I said, hold up!" is less the wail attached to little legs trying to keep up and more the teenage tone that can convey anything from "I heard you and don't want to listen," to "I need more time primping!"
I'm holding little hands less and less. Sometimes Jude or Damien will grab my hand in traffic, but usually I wind up steering them through the really crowded ones by holding onto one shoulder as they try to shake me off, saying "Mom! I'm not a baby!"
I'm holding on to memories of those babies now.
Click here to read the entire series: Five Minute October
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