When I first became a mother, everyone told me that time would fly by, not just in terms of hours and days but months and years. And it has, indeed. Everything, it seems, happens in a blink of an eye, and it’s not only during wonderful moments but also during mundane ones in which I want to time to stop, allow me to linger in the moment and taste the experience for just a bit longer. On the bad days, raising children feels like a horrible roller coaster ride — I close my eyes, hold on tight until it’s over, and pray that I won’t throw up anyone. But on the good days — and there are many more of them than the bad ones — life becomes nothing short of magic, filled with high-pitched laughs and hearty tickle fights, trees to climb and monkey bars to cross, little (and not-so-little) hands to hold and cheeks to nuzzle my nose into. Roller coasters and all, more often than not, grace finds its way into my life through my children — the two little boys who have taught me, more than anyone, how to love what I have and appreciate what I’ve been given. Today, Rebel turns six, and while I don’t at all understand why time has to move so damn fast, at least I’m learning how to slow down and make sure I don’t miss any of what’s really important. Namaste.