As much as I feel like these years are quickly passing and all the early years are becoming faint, like pencil in an old notebook. I'm somehow loving all these newer stages that come forth. And in the process, I'm learning how to adjust to their growth and development. Maybe, they might not hang onto my every word anymore, but I get to see all these new qualities emerge. Like, my daughter's sudden love of writing. Lately, besides reading, she can be found penning many short stories in her notebook. Of course, the majority of the words are phonetically written and the run on sentences are vast, but this notebook is something that will eventually be stored away. Tightly packed, with all her special childhood belongings that I hope to bring out on a much later time. And many years from now, maybe when she's a successful blogger, author, or vlogger, we'll sit down on the couch and reminiscence of this time. A time that seemed so long ago.
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