Mothering Betsy

I just can't believe how fast time seems to fly with Betsy. When talking about mothering, my own mom used to always say, "The years go by so fast, but man, the days are long."

I never doubted it, mind you. But now, watching her grow, my heart breaks daily. She smiled for the first time a few weeks ago. Smiled. It melted my heart. It should melt a mother's heart. And it simultaneously broke it. Another bit of newborn-ness dies. I put away most of her newborn clothes. At two months, she's getting a little big for them -- finally. And it broke my heart, too.

I have a strong suspicion that for the next 20 years I'll be constantly watching time fall away, and every tear of pride will be coupled with one of anxiety that my time with my daughter is falling away faster than I know how to handle.

Maybe that's part of my obsession with photography.

I flatter myself that I'm becoming a much better homemaker. There are rarely dishes in my sink and -- hey -- I've even made it downstairs to do the laundry. But there is so much more I could do, if only I were willing to put my daughter down more.

She's only tiny for a few precious weeks. And those weeks never come back. (Yes, I am in tears just writing this.) So dust waits. Clutter waits. And Mary Elizabeth Shea ...she doesn't wait. She has me at her beck and call. And I wouldn't have it any other way.