life is a series of cats

don't blink

How did that happen?

My soul tears at the thought of it.

Last week he was on my arm. He weighted under ten pounds. He couldn’t hold his head up. The next day he walked, then skated, then bikes then school then…

And meow?

His feet are big - bigger than my own.

And his legs are long - longer than mine too.

That boy will soon be able to kick his fathers’ arse.

He’s himself! Hair above his lip!

It’s all moving so unbelievably fast.

The house is getting tidier. I thought that I wanted a tidier house.

I thought I wanted less mess, fewer things ruined, less dust bunnies converging on home made slime on a corner of a piece of ruined furniture.

LEAVE THE STAINS! THEY ARE TROPHIES!

More memorable than photo albums and louder than the games of knee hockey he used to play endlessly on the floor, these stains and the mess are treasures - monuments to a time when they were young children.

He was the small one. He was the little kid. And now, he’s a teen.

He’s growing up, taking flight, becoming more and mor…