Time marches on...

 You know what I don't love about clichés? They are mostly always right. 

Examples:

Actions speak louder than words. True. My children tell me allllll the time, "I love you, Mommy" but then manage to lose every other sock, all the hair ties, and a hair brush every single morning. They do not love me. They want me to go insane.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. True. I am basically my mom. Which for 97.65% of the time is a GREAT thing.... but then I have these moments of, "Dear lord... I am just like my mother." (Love you!) And then I have these moments of "Dear lord...THEY (my children) are just.like.me." Mother Mary, pray for us.

The writing is on the wall. True. Because I literally found writing on the girls wall in their closet because "it's a classroom, mommy." See #1.

Which leads me to the title of this post because....

Y'all.

Time.Marches.On.

Like it never stops. Ever. Even when you are BEGGING it to just give you an extra second or hour or 15 years because your first born child is about to have lived for an entire DECADE. Since time refuses to listen to my pleas, I try to steal every moment I can with this kid. The girls had requested to spend an extra night in Waco a few weeks ago, so I got him all to myself. We ran some errands and then grabbed some ice cream and chatted about how HE feels about turning 10 which turned into a little impromptu goal setting... 

I love that his list included everything from finding a shark tooth to getting more involved at church. I mostly love that he still enjoys sitting down with me and will talk about any and everything. Time can keep marching on, because I really can't wait to see what this big ol' kid of mine is going to keep on doing. 

Also note that he wants to run a triathlon with Ryan. Let's see if you really can teach an old dog new tricks. 

;)