That it would be a joy to watch them grow up. But Mama, you never told me how quickly the time would pass; how the hours, the days, the weeks and the months would slip through my fingers so fast. That I would suddenly find myself looking at a child instead of a baby; a baby instead of a newborn; and beg time to be a little bit kinder and wait for me to catch up.
We cry because it's all too much. It's overwhelming. It's fast and furious. It's all so brand new. But, then, after we cry, we dry our eyes. We keep going.
