It seems like this happened in just the blink of an eye. One day, they were giggly, cute little chubby-cheeked babies riding on my hip. The next, they’re little women, giggly still, but so… grown up. The baby faces belong to big girls, now. The round baby bellies are flat, and everything else is filling out. They still love Elmo, but Carlie Rae Jepsen, One Direction, Mindless Behavior and Diggy now are my girls’ best friends in their heads. Things change. They’ve changed. We’ve changed. And time is ticking. Nine hundred and forty Saturdays. That’s how many you get with your kids between the day your babies are born and the time they turn 18. And 260 of them, according to this New York Times story, are gone by their fifth birthday. My days are numbered. The juxtaposition of these pictures makes that painfully crystal clear. If you have babies, remember to cherish the moments. Those 940 Saturdays wiz by.
Mom. NY Times bestselling author. Pop culture ninja. Unapologetic lover of shoes, bacon and babies. Nice with the verbs. Founder of the top black parenting website, MyBrownBaby.