Overnight it seems, I find myself coming home to a clubhouse of toddlers. There are little communities of Lego blocks underfoot. Long outgrown shoes look out like sentinels on the stairs. Kiddie cutlery vies for space on our table. Stuffed toys mutate, temper tantrums flare, little hands make a frantic grab for me.
Yes, time does fly. My boys are about to depart the town of babyhood. This fact hits me hard one lazy afternoon as I was looking at their pictures. Their limbs are longer, their features more defined, their individual characters are forming. Suddenly, I realize that one day, they will have other preoccupations that will not involve me, there will be rooms with locked doors, there will be dozens of pimple-faced friends, there might be late-night whispered phone calls, and there is the possibility of, oh my gosh… girlfriends.
I have no plans to counter the inevitable. My only plan is, this year, I will have more piggyback rides with my two boys. I better get in shape.