“Impossible!”, she blurted out as I read the title of the book, “I Can Read With My Eyes Shut”, by Dr. Seuss. It’s impossible you know the word, “impossible”, I thought to myself as I looked over at my dimple faced, Emmy. “How do you know such a big word?”, I asked as I reached over and tickled her tummy. “I don’t know but it IS impossible to read with your eyes shut!”, she said very seriously. As I opened the pages and cuddled into her soft, pink gingham comforter with her, my heart ached. How much more time til’ her innocence and toddler like features fade away like the stars at dawn? The sparkle and twinkle of naivety, plump cheeks and soft little hands replaced with something different?

In the midst of babies and bottles, sleepless nights and evening baths, it feels like there will be no end. When time is spent changing diapers, clicking car seat belts, vacuuming cheerios off the ground the dog missed, doctor appointments, and book after book read – it can feel like that will be the reality forever and ever.

But there will be a last bottle fed. A last evening bath. The last trace of baby shampoo smell in the air. The last diaper will be carefully put on. Car seat belts will turn into booster seats. Doctor appointments will take place without a car seat pried on your hip or little hand in yours. There will be a last book read cuddled under a pink gingham comforter in a lamp lit room.

To that, I say, “Impossible.” It’s impossible that the years have flown by so fast. It’s impossible that my little baby is no longer so. And it is impossible that I will someday not be needed for reading books and tucking one in blankets in a twin sized bed.

My life the last decade has been filled with so much love and innocence and magic. Scenes that I dreamt of before becoming a mother have taken place. It seems impossible that someday this part of my motherhood will be all over.

Sometimes the impossible is possible.