Baby-itis--Man style

The Man has realized our once cute and cuddly babies have become children hell bent on world domination.
And watching our spawn try to overtake the world has left him feeling a bit sentimental.
And he's started listening to my biological clock.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Not that he wants another baby--much--but he misses the fact that our children's childhood is speeding by.
Bug is racing headlong towards school and commitments and new friends, and Boo is right on his heels.
Punk is getting far to big and will soon be keeping pace with her brothers.
And it's just slipping away. Like sand through the hourglass.
These are the days of our lives.
*snicker*
And he realized yesterday that we would never have any of it back.
Not the pregnancy excitement and worries.
Not the soft feel of a newborn in our arms.
Not first steps, first words, first anything.
They are gone.
Before long, we will be greeting our sons, Dr. Bug and Dr. Boo, and our daughter, President Punk, and watching as they struggle with raising their own families.
Our babies are growing up and starting to grow away inch by inch.
In a few years, they won't even want to be seen in public with us.
And, while exhausted and frazzled, both The Man and I know, this is the sweetest time in our lives, when we have our children to hold and they want to be held.
Facing our children's continuing growth and independence makes parents ponder their own mortality. And not just because I think our kids are trying to kill us.
And makes us want to do what anyone facing death wants to do.
And the answer is not pray.
Thank the Gods for my Essure!