My son needed a few photos for school this week, two baby pictures and one current one. I wanted him to help me choose, so we pulled out albums and flipped through pages that showed him in his early years.
Even after the photos were selected, I kept oohing and aahing, gushing over pictures. I called my daughter into the room, too. I caught the two of them rolling their eyes at each other and they acted as though leaving the room was an escape from my sappy clutches, but the photos served as a reminder. Time passes quickly. Not that I needed the reminder...
Sometimes the thought of how fast time passes makes me feel guilty about the amount of time I spend writing. My kids understand, though, and they encourage me.
When my son was in third or fourth grade, he started checking the acknowledgments sections of books he enjoyed to find out who the authors' agents were. I never asked him to do this, but he did. You know what? I've heard about some great agents from him! Pretty cool, especially since I didn't know anything about literary agents until I was already an adult.
My daughter was in fifth or sixth grade when she told me I inspired her. She said seeing me never give up on my dream inspired her to never give up on hers. Wow. Priceless.
My kids have grown up with writing. I write at home, and they try not to interrupt. They give me ideas, and I bounce stuff off them. They're happy for me when I get to attend conferences or have other learning opportunities, and they're willing to juggle their schedules to make these things happen. They're right here with me every step of the way.
Children grow fast, which is all at once beautiful, miraculous, and sad to me. While I reach for the stars to chase my dreams, I don't have to keep my eyes on the sky. I can look right in front of me and see my kids who lift me higher than any other dream ever will.
I won't be posting next week because I'll be at the SCBWI Western Washington conference, but I'll be back the following week. Happy writing, everyone!