Sometimes I Remember Diapers and Sippy Cups

Today my 13 year old had an orthodontist appointment that fell over the lunch hour. So we went to lunch afterwards. She chose the place--Chinese--and suggested items for me to try (custard dumplings, who knew?). She directed the conversation and attempted to persuade me to buy her a guitar.

I'm looking at her and trying to remember the high chair, the sippy cups, and even the diapers. When you're in that world, you cannot possibly imagine the day when you won't be in that world any more. It's the strangest feeling to have this passing thought that at one point in your life, you were feeding this child cheerios one by one, stacking blocks with her, and complaining that you couldn't even use the bathroom by yourself.

And now it's a totally different world you're in. And this, too, will end. I'll be talking on the phone as she tells me all about her lunch with her 13 year daughter and I'll remember, maybe, this day--this other world that was once my whole life.