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⚑ October 14, 2017

The Children's Hour 🍼

Beautiful children.

Beautiful children.

Family time is the best time. Just the best. Exhausting, but satisfying … and if you’re ever lucky enough to have grandchildren in your life, you know what I’m talking about. They are all tucked into bed now, the dishes are done, and I feel like the most potent person in the world. I did this. I had a hand in making this family.

Beautiful children.

Beautiful children from the past.

Although, really – I blinked and my own child-raising moment flashed and faded and I once again shake my fist at the sky because we’ve been given so little time here on this planet to be born, to grow, to mature, to mellow. Tomorrow we will be able to spend another day, this time in NYC, with the kids and their equally impressive parents, who just the other day used to be our babies. πŸ”

Tidbit: The title refers to The Children’s Hour, a somewhat bizarre poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow that now feels as dated as his name. However, the first two or so lines just stick in the memory for their cadence:

Between the dark and the daylight, When the night is beginning to lower, Comes a pause in the day’s occupations, That is known as the Children’s Hour. </div>