I Won’t Always Have Little You

The summer is slowly ending,

and fall is here once more.

The seasons keep on changing,

like the shoes beside our door.

My youngest is turning seven.

My middle just turned thirteen.

My oldest is nearly a man now;

how did they grow in between?

These three children I hold dearly,

with a love too big to hide.

Yet somehow, as they’re growing,

the years keep slipping by.

Our lives are rearranging.

Each season brings something new.

They need me a little differently

than they once used to do.

So tonight, I’ll ignore the laundry.

The dishes can wait some more.

I’ll take the snuggle beside me

instead of finishing the chores.

Because I don’t know which cuddle

will quietly be our last.

Which ordinary little moment

will someday belong to the past.

Come snuggle a little closer,

let the chores wait out of view.

The mess will still be here tomorrow…

but I won’t always have little you.