I heard myself say it, something about how each year seems to be passing faster than I remember, proving once again that I am becoming a woman of a certain age.
I can see why some people take up seemingly odd passions; develop a stereotypical midlife crisis.
The restlessness accompanied with thoughts of if 'not now, then when'?
But in six weeks, my daughter went from struggling through drills to spraining her wrist to developing a nice serve in volleyball.
Seeds have cropped up in my windowsill.
Courtney cranes her neck to watch me wash dishes, instead of shrinking away.
Somehow these moments don't leave me grieving over lost hours.
I feel energized and excited about what we can accomplish in such a short period of time.
In six short weeks, my kids will be home for the summer.
I wonder what we will cook up.