There are some days that I just wake up and I am ready for it to be bedtime. I feel so horribly guilty wishing the day gone, but jeez. Kids are bouncing off the walls, fights are breaking out and my brain is about to bleed. At the end of the day, I look back and I realize how fast every day goes. My oldest is now a teen, my only girl has been here for a decade, and my baby is a toddler. Time flies by and you have no control. 
     It seems like yesterday that I was a teenager, and here I am approaching middle age. When did this happen? I just don't get it. I feel like somewhere, someone hits a fast forward button when I am not paying attention. Then there are those days. The ones that feel never ending. The ones where the baby refuses to sit in the grocery cart, so he runs away from me anytime I get near him in the store. The ones where each time I talk to oldest, he wants to sass back and give me that teenager attitude. The days where middle child accuses me of ruining her life every other minute. Those days cannot go quick enough.