The other day, my reliable Mitsubishi hit 150,000 miles. Well, I assume it did, because I noticed it at 149,994 and then I noticed it later at 150,003. I remember when a car hitting a nice round number was momentous enough to take pictures or invite a friend to sit in the car with me. Nowadays, the milestones happen so fast, it's hard to stop and appreciate.
Tomorrow is Jackson's 100th day out and about. 100 days ago we were sitting in that hospital, waiting, anticipating, and dilating, and we didn't even have a name for who was about to change us forever. Now there's this little person whose smile starts our days, whose attempts to stand delight us, whose screams stress us out, and whose existence inspires us to be better. Each day is another first for Jackson - his first time to meet someone new, his first time to grab his pacifier and bring it to his mouth, his first time to wobbly stand up, his first attempts to crawl. It's all happening so fast, but we've fortunately been here to see it all. The past 99 days have flown by.
And so has summer.
Tomorrow, we return to work full time. Tomorrow, Jackson heads to day care. Tomorrow, everything changes. Tomorrow is Day 100.
Though I wish we could stay in this lovely bubble of summer and this period of time when all Jackson needs is our arms and milk and his swaddle blanket, life has to keep moving. More milestones have to be made, in his life and ours. Noelle just got her Masters this weekend, and she's already planning what's next, of course. I'm starting my new position tomorrow. Jackson has a million firsts ahead of him, many of them tomorrow at his first school.
It's all changing, but that's life - always changing. I am just one of those who wants to pull over and stop when the odometer hits a certain number to appreciate the ride. As the late John Hughes had Ferris Bueller say, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
I don't want to miss a bit of your life, Jackson.