Butterfly, Fly Away

I was washing dishes and listening to Miley Cyrus' Butterfly Fly Away which, if you don't have a Miley Cyrus fan in your house like I do, you may not know is about a child's coming of age. Most likely because I'm in the throes of raging postpartum hormones, I started to cry. I know sometimes when people say how fast this time flies, and how you'll miss it when it's gone, I think I'll believe it when I see it. But then I have these moments--like today washing the dishes--when I miss it already, as if it were long gone, and I look at them with new eyes. In that moment, they are no longer my wards, but they're these little precious people. I kiss the top of Oscar's head, watch Henry toddle down the hall, hold baby Will, or see Lily dance around the kitchen and once in a while I can savor it, and I ache because I do know it won't last forever.