This is about things that are fast.

Fast like babies graduating from high school


or worse yet, college.


And then hitching a ride on a Harley (shudder!)


Fast, like a husband whooshing past you a la Lance Armstrong (in his pre-doping days).


Fast, like the time it takes to go from serious to goofy. (About 1.2 seconds if you’re curious.)

goofy diptych.jpg

Fast, like the blink of an eye between the moment a 9 year-old sees a jar of goldfish to when he asks if he can take one – or five – home.


Things are moving too fast lately. There’s no time to even look at the roses, never mind smelling them. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make my babies keep being babies and I can’t make the grass stop growing and I can’t make the calendar stop turning.

I’ve noticed that I seem to get this way at the end of the school year. I really do love having the kids home.

Except when I don’t.

I think most moms can commiserate. And if they say they don’t, then they’re not doing it right.

But I want to start this summer off right so I need to make some promises to myself.

1. I will make breakfast on Wednesdays (because Monday is laundry day and Tuesday is grocery day. Very busy. Very, very busy.)

2. I will be a patient driving instructor (unless he gets crazy with the radio. Then I’ll have to put my foot down.)

3. I will enforce the no TV rule when the sun is out (unless Phineas and Ferb is on. I just love them!)

I will run the sprinklers in the middle of a hot day. I will invite the neighbor kids over.

I will slow down … because they don’t call it the “lazy days of summer” for nothing.

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