clouds in my coffee

 I had a conversation with a couple friends with young children one time. We were probably surrounded by shrieking children who were fighting/getting into the toilet/eating chapstick or crayons or whatever they could find and bite. One of them said, "Do you ever dream of sitting down in peace and just eating a sandwich?" I understood completely what she meant. Quiet, blissful silence.
I, however, don't really care that much about eating sandwiches, and more important, my kids don't. They would be highly unlikely to bother me while I was eating.
My dream is to sit down in the morning with a cup of coffee and just enjoy it. No little girl begging me for a sip (yes, she will drink it black or with creamer, just not piping hot). No little hands tugging on the arm that is bringing the cup up for a sip to spill all over one's self or the couch or the floor.
There's a coffee stain on my living room carpet now. Jeremy couldn't believe I was dumb enough to drink it in there. Was it really too much to ask to drink on my own comfy loveseat? I guess.

I have to remind myself that there will be plenty of time for quiet coffee drinks in the future. A day coming when my kids will probably think they'll get an infectious disease from drinking out of the same cup as me. They won't want to sit on my lap or beside me on the couch, begging for my attention or one more book to read.
I want them to grow up. Seeing them gain independence and strong personalities is one of the things that brings me true delight.
But I was looking at some old pictures the other day, and while I wouldn't want to go back, I already miss the little people that they were once.

They are growing up ridiculously fast. Again, a good and sad thing at the same time.
I just want to know that I enjoyed the time I had while it was mine.
Days with you, my sweet little kids, are so bittersweet.