I found a stash of these photos the other day.
I had completely forgotten about them, and now I keep thinking long thoughts about them.
What I didn’t know was that I would look at them with a huge lump in my throat.
I vacillate between loving them and being hardly able to look at them.
The things I would tell myself if I could go back for just a minute.
Squeeze them again.
Notice the little things.
The chubby cheeks.
The missing teeth. They’re cuter than you think.
The chubby hands.
The baby teeth.
The shape of their faces. It will change. And quickly.
Their hand in yours. They won’t do that much longer, you know.
What I would tell myself if I could go back. For just a minute.
Relax. Just relax. It’s not a big deal.
These are the best years. The very best years. There are more to come, but just hang on for a minute and breathe.
Let it go.
Stop worrying. All those things you think have to be perfect? Don’t.
They are so little.
Littler than you realize.
Hold on tight.
[Can I handle the seasons of my life?]