I remember when I was little, adults would say, "The older I get, the faster time flies." I just smiled like a good little girl and thought, It seems like a hundred years between Christmas and my birthday! How can they think "time flies"? Well, now I'm starting to understand what they mean. It really seems like I was just 8 years old, when I got lost at Disney World or 11 when we started the adoption process to get Clara. I was little. I remember sitting at the kitchen table for hours with Daddy, doing math. I couldn't remember my multiplication tables to save my life. 4 x 8 was especially hard (Yes, I remember that). And I know then answer now, 32. I would promise myself that I would never do any math harder than division. That didn't work out, by the way. I remember when I was upset that I couldn't read chapter books and when I couldn't stand writing an essay (my how things change). I used to be terrified of the stage, any stage. When I was 10 or 11 I used to be mortified in a restaurant when the waitress brought me a cup with a LID on it. That was the worst nightmare, because I thought people still saw me as a kid. It seems like I was just little. But reality tells me that I am going to 17 in April.
|Clara, Kandace, and myself on Easter 2006|
|My siblings and myself last summer|