One Day at a Time

This weekend Audra got out the baby books.  They brought back memories of a happy time in my life.  I loved when my kids were little.  I loved being able to put them all in the bathtub together.  I loved laying next to them while they fell asleep.  I loved carrying them on my hip.
But those days are gone.
Today they take showers--long showers by themselves.  Today I get a goodnight kiss, but no one needs me to stay in their room to ward off the bad guys.  Today they are too big to be carried.
I started reading Jacob's book and all of the cute things that he used to do and say.  For example, when he was 4 we saw a funeral procession.  I was driving so I pulled the car over and explained what was going on.  When I pointed out the hearse that was carrying the body of the person who had died, Jacob said, "Why didn't that person go to heaven?"  I told him that when you die, your body doesn't go to heaven.  He thought about that for a minute and then exclaimed, "You mean just your HEAD goes?!" Smile.
I  haven't written in his book in a long time, because burping and playing loud music isn't as "cute" as shooting pretend arrows with a clothes hanger while wearing underoos and cowboy boots.  But as I was watching Jacob sit on the couch and play his banjo, I thought, "This is a happy time too."
How did we go from playing with a flyswatter to playing a banjo?
From wearing a super hero cape to wearing skinny jeans?
From playing in the dirt to photography?
From eating "kie-coos" (cookies) to making crepes?
How did it happen?  It seems like a long time ago and yet seems like it was yesterday.  All of those years, and all of those changes--from baby, to boy, to teenager--happened one day at a time.  I realized as I watched him that today was going to pass into tomorrow and into the day after that and into next year and then one day he would be a grown man.
One day at a time.  
So I am determined not to spend my time missing the boy he was, but enjoying the young man that he is.  Because tomorrow he will be different--maybe not enough so that I can see it--but not the same as he is today.

Lord, our lives are made up of years and our years are made up of days.  Each day is important.  Each day is a gift.  Help me to make the most of this day.