I'm starting to feel a bit sentimental and panicky about the kids getting older. It just goes so freaking fast, I can't believe it.
I guess it started yesterday, which was the first day of swim lessons. I always associate the start of summer with the kid's lessons, I sign them up for the first session offered. I like to get it in early, even thought the weather is usually on the cool and of course, rainy side. That way we have the rest of the summer to practice our skills, and Luke gets to go to summer rec.
But the lessons always prompt a series of "what we were doing last year at this time" in my head. Last year Eliza was still at an age that we count in months, and Luke was in Level One. The pool never really changes, when it does it's because of a new lifeguard, or you see how kids have grown over the winter. I can easily close my eyes and go back three short years, when Luke was in baby swim and I was wearing a maternity bathing suit (I still cringe to think of it).
It really kicked in today, when I was cleaning and organizing Eliza's closet. I have four bags of baby and toddler clothes, that I don't think I can ever part with. I've given my sister a ton of stuff, but hung on to all the boy clothes, since so far, Luke is the only one. I found a Ralph Lauren onezie that seriously made my chest ache, as I thought of how little Luke was, and how that newborn time was so exhausting, but so wonderful, and life changing. I'm better about the toddler clothes, but is it wrong to hang onto the others? I don't think so. I put all the bags back in their spots, where I think they will stay.