I was so inspired by this post when I read it earlier this week. It literally brought tears to my eyes. We took Sawyer in the lake for the first time this week, and I got a little weepy thinking about this being the very first time our guy is swimming in the lake he will grow up swimming in. There will be 1000’s of jumps into the water, sunburns, and splashes to happen over the next 18 years, and although that sounds like a long time, 18 summers doesn’t feel like enough.
Once September rolls around, we’ll only have 17 summers left. 17 summers left to go to the ball park, clap for our favorite team, and sing “take me out to the ball game” in the 7th inning stretch. Doesn’t 17 seem too short?!
Right now I dream of the day our baby sleeps in past 6 AM, but I also know that I’ll blink and he will be sleeping late into the morning and filling his summer days with adventure and fun that doesn’t necessarily include me. Before I know it, our summers of picking wild flowers and taking long walks together will come to an end. I’m going to wake up one morning and it will be the end of our 18th summer. I’ll be packing my baby up to go away to college and that summer will become just a little less magical.
We have 18 summers left right now. 18 years of catching fireflies, and camping out on the living room floor. Late bedtimes and trips to the zoo. 18 independence day celebrations and firework shows by the water. I eagerly look forward to each of these summers, but I know as each “first” passes, and each weekend ends, we’re watching the sand trickle through that hourglass so I better soak ‘em in.
18 summers. That’s all you’ve got with your baby, so make every day of this one count. Have a great weekend, friends. Kiss your babies!
Until Next Time,