I've heard it said that during this season of life with many young ones at home, The days are long, but the years are short.  With only 10 days till my first born's 8th birthday I have to agree.  My days are long and challenging, but this year is racing by at neck-breaking speeds.  

Wasn't it just the end of Summer?  Weren't they only yesterday all running off to their classes for the first day of school?  And now, here it is December.  The Christmas tree is up and it's cold and breezy outside.  Looking back at the past four months I marvel, but even more than that I'm breathless at the thought that in the next blink of an eye Asher will be 4, it will be Spring time, and then the wrap-up of another school year.   

I don't want to be so ensnared by the long and weary-making days,

that I lose sight of these joy-filled years that are passing

before my very eyes.

This picture makes me laugh down to the very depths of my soul.  My son, on the brink of 8, almost aware that Chuck E Cheese Birthday crowns aren't cool, is still my little boy.  Just barely.  I won't hold him back and suffocate him on his journey to manhood, O No!  I love watching him grow into a strong, kind, masculine guy.  But I am determined to stop the running and delight in him as the last few strains of his little boy voice play in our home.  

One of my favorite things to see is my biggest guy skipping.  

Catching Caleb mid-skip reminds me more than anything else that the time is fast approaching when he won't indulge in childish play any longer.  His play will be bigger and louder, more mature and less mature at the same time, it will be stinkier and testosterone charged, and he will wonder who is looking and what others are doing,  But for today, he skips, and he sings, and he laughs the strangest most beautiful laugh.  He doesn't cover his mouth, notice when his fly is down, worry about his breath or what other people think.  It's so dear to me, though I know that this brand of dear will come to an end.

Yes, this little boy, and his two brothers, make my days very long... but I am holding gently on as the years fly by.  I am finally learning to let dinner be late so that I can spend some of my Mothering time skipping through the years with them.  I'm learning to say yes to "Mommy, I'm Ironman, would you be Wonder-woman on the red scooter?"  That was Asher's request yesterday as we played together outside.  If I had said no and ushered them inside for dinner, I would have missed this sweet gift of,  "Mommy, stop your scooter now, it's time for Ironman and Wonder-woman to get married."  Then he walked up to me timidly and I quickly leaned over and gave him a kiss.  He squealed and rode off down the street.  

Slow down Mamas.  Slow down Clock.  Slow down seasons and years and afternoons on the cul de sac.  Slow down tuck-ins.  Slow down tickles.  Slow down.  Slow down.  Slow down.