This has become my summer of whiplash. No, I'm not teaching a kid to drive (thank God) or scheduling visits with a chiropractor. I'm just experiencing those moments that point out to me how quickly time is passing.
And it all got me to thinking about the years passing and how lucky I am to have these friends and traditions that serve as a yardstick of longevity. I always wanted to be the kind of mom who religiously marked my kids' height on the closet door or kept perfect scrapbooks documenting each step. Alas, I'm not. But I am the kind of mom who throws a great 4th of July party every year. And these same kids who grew up on us overnight, dammit, and who make food and beer requests as I prepare my grocery list, have these parties as a mid-summer marker in their memories. And these same kids will, in a few years (please, not too soon!!), bring their own babies to these parties and the chain will start all over.
And so, while I glance longingly backward at the little kids they once were, I also am looking into the future at the young ones who'll be joining us down the road. And I can sit here in the present, on this hot July day, and be happy for parties and traditions that seem to go on and on and on.