They say time flies.

It’s interesting, as R gets older, to see how my perceptions of her growing are different than they were from those of E.  I suppose I don’t have time to pay as much exclusive attention to her–and since I know now the general course of infancy and early toddlerhood, I’m less eager for it to speed on by–and so the Big Moments come more as a surprise.  One day R sat by herself without falling over; one day she could support her own weight; another day she cautiously let go of the couch to stand alone.  One day she sat in her walker, the next day she zoomed through the house, knocking down her sister in the process.  Everything is happening suddenly; my brain in perpetual distraction mode fails to notice the warning signs until, each day, R is suddenly that much older.  Somehow my newborn turned into an 8-month-old.

I never thought E was going to grow up.  It seemed like she sat in her walker for months (it can’t possibly have been that long) before she figured out how to do anything besides move backwards.

I love the fact that we have two girls so close in age.  They clearly adore each other–although they’re also learning now how to ignore each other and even get annoyed at each other (mainly E gets annoyed at R for the aforementioned running over in her walker, and R gets annoyed at E for trying to pick her up).  And I’m not really sorry that I’m missing the in-between moments of R’s early childhood–it comes with the territory, and I imagine it’s only going to get worse with (Lord willing) #3.

But I finally have some glimmer of understanding of what people mean when they say to treasure the moments before they’re gone–just because now there are such fewer moments that I even see.

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