Sliding through time

(pictured L: Our niece, Ashley with John Andrew, Tiana and Kalina; R: breakfast the day Tiana was born)

It hit me like a ton of VHS Tapes tonight and I suppose it will contine to hit me over and over again. The reality that our kids are, in fact, older than they used to be. Now, I know this seems painfully (stupidly even) obvious, but what hit me is that as they age, they shed little bits of their personalities like skin, only to grow new, more refined personas. Since I feel exactly the same as I have since I was twelve, it is new to me that they do not just get to be taller versions of themselves.

Yesterday, I watched a video that I clearly remember recording of our now five year old girl, taken when she was three years old. I remember that day exactly. As I suspected, I have changed very little. But, Kalina. Oh, my. Today I see the fragments of that video in her eyes, but her newfound knowledge about so many things just swallows them up. I know my babies so well, that as I see them each morning they look so familiar sitting on our couch clearing last night's dreams out of their heads. But each morning they are just a little bit wiser, funnier more evolved.

And, then I get this sinking feeling...our oldest is only seven! Tiana isn't even fully potty trained. Seven years into this parenting business, and I am more sentimental than an old Kleenex commercial! Good Lord, what will I do when they start driving, start dating...start lives of their own? I am left puzzling over whether it would be better to be aware of the crazy journey all along, or to take it in, in one big breath when they are each on their own roads.

Expectations

Backpacks and classrooms are looming large on our horizon, the kids are begining to wonder about their friends--who they just now seem to realize have been missing since May--and I am ready to put our suitcases away and get out my planner. This time of year fills me with so many expectations, which got me to thinking about what I actually expect from my children, from my spouse, and from this world. There are the simple expectations: my hopes for a good school year, healthy check-ups and expectations of forward progress on the various learning paths we travel. The lofty ones: expecting kindness at the dinner table, grace in front of company and steely resolve on the playground. The tedious ones: finding a new, more exciting place for Andy and I to catch-up on the days events. I mean, House Hunters plus wine and cheese is so cozy, but maybe I should dust off the patio furniture and pick up some tapas and sangria mix. At least for me, it seems everything comes down to expectations.

When we arrived at the airport this morning in Boston, I expected that we would have the normal obstacles to manuver and tricks to perform while ferrying our family of five home on a non-stop domestic flight. I was ready with sticker books, extra underwear (for the sort-of potty trained pre-schooler), ipods (for the mostly digital elementary schoolers) and candy (for me, really). So, when Andy mentioned to me in the too-long security line that our flight *may* be delayed (it's hard to read computer screens and keep tabs on the 2 year old, so he wasn't sure) I was shocked. No matter that EVERYONE gets delayed, all the time. No matter that I didn't even check before we left for the airport, so I didn't really know for certain that we were on time. This information met my the wall of my defenses like so much tabloid nonsense. "WHAT? But, how? What happened?" was all I could say. What would we DO with two unexpected hours on the "other side of security?" Mercifully, for us, someone else thought of these impossibilities and we spent an unbridled hour or so at the bouncy play area, then toured the food court. I learned that Andy and I can sit and talk at bouncy play areas, and that no matter where you are in Boston, there is a Dunkin Donuts with good coffee. AND, that watercolor paints and cootie catcher kits are excellent to have in your bag for a long day of air travel. Our plane took off, and landed uneventfully, and home we went not too much worse for the wear.

At the end of it all, I am reminded that in this life it is one thing to hold out your expectations, and quite another to live in the moments you are given.