Handprints

If  you read my blog you are probably well aware that I

a) have chronic baby fever

and

b) am working feverishly to find a way to stop time so my children will stop growing up!

 

Yesterday, I was driving the two bigs to school and then headed to preschool to drop of this little angel for his last first-day-of-preschool.

 

 

(Yes, of course I cried!  Charlie, on the other hand, popped right out of the car and hopped off to school without so much as a backwards glance.)

As we were driving, I saw this on the car.  Can you see it?

 

I looked and noticed that they were everywhere.

 

I said, "I see handprints on the windshield.  Has someone been climbing on my car?"

 

*Crickets*

 

Finally, a tiny voice from the back.  Melody, who just can't not say anything,

 

"Yes. Charlie and I were.  Sometimes we just like to sit on your car."

 

I didn't really know how to respond and then that sweet little poem about handprints popped into my mind.  You know the one.  The one that always makes you cry.

 

Sometimes you get discouraged because I am so small,

And always leave my fingerprints on furniture and walls.

But everyday I'm growing, I'll be grown up someday,

And all these tiny handprints will simply fade away.

So here's a final handprint just so you can recall,

Exactly how my fingers looked when I was very small.

 

Of course I got teary then and Charlie said, "Well, we might not have done it if we knew it would make you cry!"