When you have tiny babies all swaddled up in blankets, old heavily perfumed church ladies are free with their advice. Don’t blink. They say. Before you know it, they’ll be grown. But you wish you could blink. You wish you could stay blinked. You wish your eyes could just stay closed. Just stay closed all night… Please. Just one night of sleep.
But then, somehow, that passes. You don’t think it ever will, but just like the church ladies said it would, it passes. Oh my gosh, they were right. That happened so fast!
Then they are walking. Then talking. Then talking back. Then borrowing your clothes.
Suddenly, looking at your tiny baby looks like looking into a mirror.
Oh, my God.
Don’t blink.
Don’t blink.
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