When in the throes of nursing newborns, changing diapers and chasing toddlers we all have those recurring thoughts that are rarely uttered lest we're thought of as a less-than-perfect momma: "Will I ever have a full night's sleep for the next eighteen years?" "I can't wait until I no longer have to carry a diaper bag, a sippy cup, a flask of vodka (just kidding), etc." "When will I not smell like baby wipes, squash or spit up?" "Will I ever drive a car that doesn't have a meal's worth of Goldfish and french fries gracing the floor?" An hour felt like a day. A day felt like a year.

I can remember all those times I was trying to calm an inconsolable teething infant or ignoring a temper tantrum in the middle of Target. Inevitably, a seasoned mom would walk by, smile and say "It goes so fast. Enjoy them." Yeah, right. It was all I could do to not trip her cute, freshly manicured self down the grocery aisle. I wanted to say (or scream): "At least you're by yourself!!" Well that may have been a little harsh but I WAS sleep deprived. I never thought I'd repeat her sentiment anytime in the near future.

Now that I'm light years ahead of those days, I've found that her words were so true. When you're in it, it feels like forever. When you look back, it was just yesterday. Now I find myself giving the same advice to young moms I happen upon while doing my errands--alone, of course. I never thought I'd say that, much less mean it.

This week as I've been doing some Spring cleaning, I happened upon an item that flooded my heart with serious nostalgia. This mini-chair, which also becomes a step stool , was made by Mimi (Trey's mom) back in 2000. Before Ben. And before the older boys could brush their teeth, or take a drink out of the faucet, without a little lift. When I saw the chair/stool, I immediately went to those thoughts of early motherhood. Why did I wish those days away? When was the last time they needed my physical help on a daily basis? I never thought I'd miss those days.

Even though I'm more of a "tosser" than a "keeper" this is one piece of yesterday I can't say goodbye to. I never thought.