On our walk today, he found some rocks. Then he started stacking them. Then he knocked them over. He looked up and noticed me watching, so he said,
"Look, mom they stack... and they're muddy... really muddy! Yucky!!!! And they go crash, and can cut, cut, cut. Mom.... can you hold them in your pocket for me?"
And what did I do? Well... I put them in my pocket, of course. I walked along, feeling the weight and muddiness of them, marvelling at the differences between my daughter and son. I was remembering her when she was three, then it hit me. This would be the very last December that he will be three. Next year, walking along that same path in December, he will be four. He will have changed. He will have grown, just like she has.
I made a pact with myself right then to continue reminding myself to savor every minute that I can.