Sunday, February 24

Letter to my Little Ones

Dear Ava and Molly,

Oh little girls.
If I could only stop time right here.
To just breath in for a little while longer
this stage of "little",
because the bigger you get,
the more the "little" fades away.

I just want to soak in the "omomomo-p" of your alphabet,
and the way you run crookedly because you haven't quite mastered it yet,
and how you pick up food with your fingers and place it on your fork before you eat it
with your eyebrows furrowed because you are concentrating so hard.
How you say "book-a-read, book-a-read" over and over until Mommy sits down and reads
and how you always back up into my lap and plop down to listen.

We've already left the days of your first da-da,
the broken in half Cheerios,
your first spoon fed meal of pears,
and walking for the first time with your alligator walker.

Those days were just here, little girls, they were just. here.
Momma blinked and they were gone.
And I'm afraid that these moments that I'm capturing now
will be gone as quick as the ones before them.

I write about time a lot, I know.
But, as your momma, I can't stop thinking about it.
And I realize that these moments that I want to pause
wouldn't have happened if I had hit "pause" sooner
and as I know I wouldn't have wanted to miss today and the days surrounding it,
I know in my heart that I don't want to miss the days to come either.

So, little girls, I won't be sad that I can't press pause.
I will just continue to open the door knob to your room each morning,
turn on the light and pick you up, smell your sweet skin,
and feel your warm cheeks on my lips as I kiss them good morning.
Each morning when I go into your room,
I will continue to tell myself to remember.
To remember this kiss. this hug.
To remember that you, Ava and Molly, will only be this age today. This minute. This moment.
That today is the only today we have. Tomorrow, today will be yesterday.

It's not a sad thing to grow up. Not for you and not for me.
Growing up means learning your ABC's, writing your name, writing your first essay.
These are all exciting things.
And it's amazing to think that it also means that one day,
you will be perched on your sofa like I am now,
writing a letter to your little ones that will probably be similar to this one
because time stops for no one....
but that's okay. Time must go on.

Just try and remember to not look backward and forward too much
and forget to look and see and do in the day you are in.
There is beauty right there. Grace there. Blessings there. Love there.
And while time doesn't stop moving,
it never moves too fast if you remember to be right where you are.



  1. I love this. You captured how a mom feels. Enjoy your blinks today!

  2. I'm sitting at my desk crying. You always manage to tug at my heartstrings, Ashley, because we moms all experience the same intense love. You just have a gift for putting it into words and making me stop to think and thank God for the fleeting moments that will live forever in my heart <3