The funny thing about change is that it’s constant.

Sometimes it’s expected and sometimes it’s not.

Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s bad.

No matter how hard we try, there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

I’ve been reflecting a lot on change lately as Jack makes his transition out of the infant room at school.

He is now an “official” toddler.

This scares me for many reasons but at the forefront right now is that I don’t know where the last 19 months have gone. Is this really the pace at which these changes are going to continue?

Slow down….

I, like most people, have had my share of major life changes.

I moved to California when I was 25 to see what life was like on the left coast. I met my husband while in California and we moved back east and started our careers again here. And the biggest change of all - I had Jack!

But as I reflect back on the static times between those changes, I am able to recall that, while they may seem like a lifetime ago, I am satisfied that I had my fair share of time to appreciate them while they were happening.

Not so much with this.

People tell me all the time how I need to savor this time in my life because it goes by so quickly. That’s all fine and good but is definitely a sentiment I feel most people have to reflect on with 20/20 hindsight.

Slow down.

I often wonder why it works out that some of the sweetest times with our children are dimmed because of lack of sleep or just overall weariness from having to keep up with the day.

I want to suck up as much of this innocent time as possible because this is my kid in his purest form. There’s nothing I can do to stop this innocence from fading away--my main goal is to just try to draw it out.

I take lots of pictures.

I blog about our experiences.

I take at least one moment every day to just focus on soaking up the present.

For all of the tantrums and fussiness, the late-night coercions to get back into bed and lay down, the quieting of the inappropriate loudness, there are equal parts hugs and kisses, belly laughs and cuddling.

To the next 19 months I say… slow down!

Soon enough I will no longer be the center of Jack’s world. 

In fact, I’ll be lucky if he wants to walk next to me in public or engage in a conversation about his day.

So the next time he begs me to carry him at the end of a long day in 105 degree heat and heels, it’s with this inevitability in mind that I will gladly scoop him into my arms and carry him to our final destination.