Writing my Emotions Here

 My girls are growing up. The constant reminder of this has plagued me since the day I came home from the hospital with B. Some days I take it in stride well aware of the little precious time I have with them, and other days, like today, it causes such anxiety it's debilitating. I'm not an anxious person. My husband worries and has enough anxiety for the both of us. But if there is one thing that gives me anxiety it's time and this question, "Have I done enough?"

Have I spent enough time with them?
Have I read to them enough?
Have I loved them enough?
Have I taught them enough?
Have I talked to them enough?
etc.





I had to sign B up for which track I want her on in the first grade.
First grade, just those two words puts me in a tail spin of tizzy. How is this possible? She was just in preschool, how is she already going to school all day? I'm not ready.

She is so much fun to be around. She is such a good sister. She is a loving daughter. She loves adventures and I love taking her on those adventures. School will cramp that up. 

What especially hits me though, is I realize those few precious years when I had complete influence over her are gone.

Frankly, I will miss her. I will miss having her around everyday. I want to be mad at time, call time an enemy. But time isn't the enemy, it's the distractions that are the enemy. The things I let distract me that rob me of quality time with my family. I will be better, so when I look back I won't feel anxious but grateful.