I snapped this picture a little after 10 p.m. on New Year’s Eve and quipped to myself and to the entire world of Facebook that at least I wouldn’t have to stay up ’til midnight.

And then I carried each kid to bed, tucked them in, kissed their heads and went and had a moment. 

Because I look at that picture and see so much innocence there. They have no clue that elsewhere NYE means staying up late or that a ball drops in a place they’ve never heard of or that entire parties center around the changing of the date from one year to the next. 

And to be honest, the older I get, the less any of that stuff means. Anymore, I measure the passage of time in a whole new way, not filled with dates and years. 

Tonight, I carried the one on the left to his bed and his gangly legs hung to my knees. The one on the right curled into a tiny ball on her full-sized mattress, and I couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t stay that small forever. 

One of my favorite things about life right now is reading my children to sleep. It doesn’t happen every night. But I’ve been known to read an extra chapter when I have a sense it will work. 

Time passes, and inevitably, there will be a last time for everything. I won’t always get to read my kids to sleep or carry them to bed. Only God knows how many more of those I’ll get. 

So for now, I’ll just enjoy this one. I’ll savor their warm heads on my shoulders and the way their weight relaxes in my lap. And I’ll be grateful. Happy New Year, y’all.