They really do grow up fast

The other day my family and I were in a restaurant where another foursome with much younger children was seated next to us. I watched as the mother went up to the buffet table to get her food and a dish for her 4 year old daughter in tow. Dad was back at the table trying to feed a very cranky toddler when it hit me that we were that very same family not long ago. I remember many times when our appetite came second to our young ones who would stomp and shout until they were fed. Taking turns holding or feeding the youngest, and diaper changes when the inevitable happened in underventilated public places were all part of a normal day in the life of a young family.


Grandpa and Sam at the racetrack

I told my wife how I would see other people back then with older kids and think how simple it must be when they become a little more self sufficient. I never really wished for it to happen since I always recalled my elders telling me the age old line: "enjoy them while they're young because they grow up fast". And I did, and still do. I enjoy every moment that I can. But in doing so I thought I could slow the hands of time and make it last a lot longer than it would. And honestly I have no regrets. I was there enjoying all of this time when they were alot younger. More so than alot of parents who work long hours and have other commitments to tend to in their lives. Anyway, I thought, this time wasn't coming for many years so I have nothing to worry about.


The family in the new house on wheels

Jump forward to 2:30am this morning. I'm sitting in a fire truck staged in the parking lot of our hometown high school. We just got a call of a fire alarm sounding in the school and being the second-in engine company, we were assigned to wait in this lot until given further orders. At any other call in this situation I'd be engaged in some sort of mindless banter about who makes the most powerful diesel engine or how so-and-so is doing. All while trying to breathe in a truck so full of morning mouth that it could knock a buzzard off a ... well, you get the idea.


But none of this was to happen on this occassion. I sat quitely in my own little corner of the world and pondered the thought that in one year my oldest will be here and the younger one is soon to follow. Seven years ago we moved here and it feels like only yesterday. We do that over again and both of them will be graduated and possibly out of the house. Compounding all of this is the recollection of what I was exposed to when I was at that age. I've tried to teach them well since birth but I think I'm still living in some sort of denial when I think my kids aren't going to get into the situations that I did. I know it's a right of passage of sorts. They're going to get in trouble, they're going to struggle to find their identity and the right crowd to fit in with. All we can do as parents is hope that when they are presented with these situations they will choose good judgement.

The call is over but my train of thought isn't. We return to quarters and I still have about an hour or two of things running through my mind that prohibits me from even trying to fall back asleep. This topic is one of which I lose the most sleep over. It's not money, or the fact that my house needs repairs. It's not even the thought that my retirement may not be what I plan it to be. It's the kids. How far we've all come, the road ahead, and what little time we really do have with them.