I was in bed this morning relishing the opportunity to sleep in a little on a weekday.  I heard Connor moving around as he got up and got himself ready for school.  I called out to him and he knocked and came into my room.  "Good morning, Buby" I say.  He walks around the bed and crawls in for a quick cuddle and a chat about his day and the fact that I left lunch money on his binder.  Connor then hopped up and went on with his morning routine. 

After he left I was struck by the smell of him.  He smells like deodorant and hair product.  He smells like a grown up - a man. This hits me like a ton of bricks and I am instantly awake.  And  I remember that other smell - the newborn smell - and realize that that smell will never be mine again - at least not as a mother.  And my heart aches. 

And it makes me realize that this is not just about Connor but also about Cate.  She has gone from a quiet, shy little one who was often in her brother's shadow, to a young girl who is wishing for waves in her hair and speaks her mind more confidently. 

And it is a potent reminder that as they age, so do I.  And that makes me freak out just a little

I realize that the whole growing up thing is inevitable and that I have helped it along through my constant encouragement that they tackle life head on.  But the smell of my boy with his Old Spice deodorant reminds me that time goes too quickly and I realize that I would give anything for just one chance to hold my babies again, and to smell them again.

Peace.