It’s getting close to Mother’s day. Not like tomorrow, but kinda. And I miss my Mom. Also, in case you’re wondering, yes, I still consider myself youthful. I’m not middle aged and I will arm wrestle you just to prove it. Anyway, I just came across this image of my girl. My baby. Who’s now almost 8. Who hugged me tonight and said “you’re such a good Mom and you’re doing great.” Yep, my baby. All of a sudden I’m totally confused. No, I’m not uneducated, I do fully understand the concept of time. But why does it riddle us so incredibly well? I look at her face, her dimples, her hair, her arms, her baby teeth, and I’m taken back to our old house. To the rainy days when we would walk our driveway and pick spring flowers in her new rain boots. To another place and time. To me relenting to myself out loud over and over and over again, those were the days. And as I’m currently playing “scary monster” to my twin boys in the bonus room of our current home, I glance at the image one more time and I correct myself. “These are the days.” My eyes begin to well up with expected tears as I prepare another ‘scare’ for my boys who are patiently waiting for mommy to get her shit together and wipe her tears. My oldest twin says “Mommy crying?” I say “Mommy is happy. I love you.” He smiles and we play monsters on a Monday.