My wife was just showing me pictures she had stored away on a memory card from when the kids were about four months old and I remembered why I decided to stay home with the kids. Why I decided to endure all the jokes from my friends and confused glances from strangers at the library, the mall and the "Mommy and Me" programs. It's because I am deathly afraid of missing one moment of their lives. I am so head over heels, madly addicted to never missing a moment; that I sold the business I had built up from next to nothing for four + years and went completely against the grain of our society to never miss a second.
Elissa has a coworker who has pictures of her kids on her desk. She asked her how old they are and she said 14 and 16. This is only strange because the pictures on her desk are of six and eight year old kids. She told my wife that she liked them best at that age. Looking at the photos just now of our kids I felt pretty annoyed that we couldn't go back and enjoy those moments again. They were so chubby and round and just loved racing around the house in their walkers. I didn't miss a second, but for some reason I wish I could have them back.
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