Growing Up

There's been a long-standing Daddy-Christa tradition in our house. It started when Christa was a newborn and Rob was a commuter-Daddy, working in Wyoming and traveling back and forth between there and our home in Colorado. Every night he was home--which was about three nights a week--he put Christa to bed. And each of those nights, he held her and rocked her until she was sound, sound asleep.
"She's going to get used to this, you know," I warned.
"I know," he said, looking down at her snuggled in his arms. "But this is our special time."
As Christa grew, she outgrew his arms and her crib. So, Rob adapted the tradition. At bedtime, he'd read to her and sing to her--and then he'd snuggle beside her in bed until she fell asleep. Usually he fell asleep too. With his busy schedule he needed those extra minutes of sleep.
Two nights ago, Rob settled in beside Christa. She tossed and turned. Tossed and turned some more.
"You know, Daddy, I can't go to sleep until you leave," she said.
So Rob gave her a hug and a kiss and came on downstairs.
And when he told me about it--he looked a little bit sad.

Too often I wonder what's taking my child so long to grow up.
And then when she does, I wonder how it happened so fast.