We are constantly losing our children

My wife and I often look at photos of our firstborn when he was the age of his little sister. It hit us that he will never be that age again. And then the second realization: Our daughter will also never be that age again.

As Ryan Holiday wrote, "Every parent's deepest fear is losing their child. And the terrible, beautiful tragedy of parenthood is that, indeed, we are constantly losing our children. Day, by day, by day. Not literally, of course, but in the sense that they are constantly growing, changing, becoming someone different."

Having kids is not exactly a walk in the park. In the first year, we were perpetually lacking sleep. In the next few years, our patience was constantly tested. And I'm sure more challenges will come. I know it because I was always making my parents annoyed, worried, or both—maybe even now.

We know we can get through anything together. We know this too shall pass. At first it's quite comforting, then troubling. Because as Tom Hanks shared, "this too shall pass" applies to both bad and good times. HFMD, meltdowns, and "I don't like you papa"? This too shall pass. Their happy faces in the morning when they see you and want you to lift them out of their cot? The times when they are tired and want you to carry them? The non-stop bombardment of what they did in school today? This too shall pass.

If we don't slow down and cherish these moments, they will be gone before we know it. When my son turned 3, I wrote him a letter. As I reflected on the year, I was surprised by how much he grew in a year. At 2, he could only say a few words or short phrases. At about 2.5, he said "I want you because I love you." (Who's cutting onions!) I had often wanted to skip past the terrible twos stage. But then I realized how much I would have missed. He will never be 2 again.

Having our daughter, in a way, has let us relive some of the early stages (even though it will never be exactly the same as having only our son then). You would think I'm constantly savoring every moment—the good and the bad. But admittedly the dread of the bad overwhelms us more often than we like. Just last night, we were struggling with a little baby who refuses to sleep. My wife and I were waking up every hour or so to her cries.

Then this morning, when we drew the curtains, our little girl looked at us with her half-opened eyes and gave us her widest two-toothed grin. We instantly forgot what happened last night. It's like someone swapped our battery for a fully charged one.

I reminded myself, "She will never be this age again."