I cut the baby dresses and little sleepers into 10 by 4 inch quilt pieces while Emory is upstairs getting her winter breeches on in preparation for her riding lesson. In the kitchen Elliot is stirring vanilla sugar into his coffee and reminding me that we need to pack his suit jacket and tie for this evening's dress rehearsal and that no, he doesn't need a ride, he'll just walk over to his girlfriend's house and go with her. And I wonder how we've gone from this, from baby-sized t-shirts and diapers and slings to horses and coffee.
In my head I hear my mother's voice and she's telling me, "You go to bed at night and they're babies and when you wake up the next morning they're all grown up".
I used to roll my eyes and laugh when she said that but it's right now as I cut into the tiny onesie he wore only yesterday that I know it for sure.
My mother, she was right all along.
