1st day of preschool happened. Enrolling in jiujitsu happened. A week of camp at the YMCA happened (it was only two hours, but still).
Shit is happening.
I'm elated by it all, and yet devastated that time goes faster than I can fathom. When I first had Captain, I went out to celebrate my girlfriend's birthday when he was about eight weeks old. And as a mutual friend was asking me how it was going she said, "What I can tell you about right now, is that the days are long but the years are so short". In that moment, all I could agree with was how LONG the days and how TIRING the nights were, but that statement stuck with me, because here I am looking back and asking myself what the Hell happened and he is only three.
What am I going to feel like when he is 10? 15? 40?
I thought of this as I watched myself this morning take the art projects he has done so far in preschool and at camp, turning them on their backs so I can time stamp where and at what moment it was created. Paper bag puppets and glued on foam shapes. Creations where the only art he put in was placing the glue dots for pre-made pieces to get pushed down.
I can't keep all of it. And I know that. But for now, every single piece is a keepsake; it is something he made and had fun doing. I wasn't there - I didn't see how excited he was, I didn't watch his concentration while placing the red and orange squares into his fire pit....but I can imagine it.
And I'm proud of every single thing he brings home and presents me with.