This week has been a busy one. Now only am I blogging until the wee hours of the morning, but I am taking care of the new 6 week old puppy we took in, and dealing with the emotions of my babies all growing up.

And I am still trying to maintain a house, a marriage, and a bank account!

This week, we attended three graduation ceremonies.  My dear friend’s son graduated Tuesday night, my own sweet Katie graduated from Preschool Wednesday, and tonight, my Niece graduated from Elementary school.

I cried at all three.  My friends son’s because I knew she was feeling like time had passed too quickly and he was growing up way too fast.  And because he is.  I met her only a few years ago when he was in preschool.  Her daughters were not even in school yet!  And now, she has a first grader.  Just.Like.That.

I teared up at my Niece’s because I was there on her first day of Kindergarten.  Holding a gift at the bus stop, wishing her well, wanting to make sure her mother went home knowing that she had someone else to hold those memories dear with her.  And now, she is going to middle school.  Just.Like.That.

My Katie.  My little graduate.  My proof that God does trust me with valuable things.  My heart.

She was just born.  Just yesterday.  And just as I was getting used to the idea of preschool, having her gone two days a week, and then three, she is going to be gone five.  Five long, consistent, days.  A kindergartner.

And as I watched her walk across the stage, little black cap precariously balanced on her head, hand stretched out for her ‘diploma’, I could not help but tear up.  Cry.  Blubber like an idiot.   Make a scene with my bawling.

Ok, maybe not quite that bad.

But the tears would not stop gathering and the lump could not be swallowed.   I suppose that is motherhood, after all.  Wanting them to be independent while still being dependent on you.

I wonder today, as I scroll through the graduation pictures of my loved ones, when did this all happen?  When did they start growing up?

When did I grow up?

When did I go from a carefree, fly by night, insanely irresponsible girl to a woman attending her daughter’s preschool graduation?

When did I become old enough to be entrusted with those three  little girls strapped into their car seats?  How did the knowledge and wisdom come  to me to know what their cries mean and to understand that their laughter is my asset?  Why do I have decisions placed on my shoulders daily that take an adult to make?

I am not an adult.  I am not a woman approaching 40.  I am not starting to feel my age in my joints and see it on my face!  I am not old enough to be taking children to school and gymnastics and Church.

When did I grow up?

And how can I stop them from doing it too?