When I was pregnant with Jolie I found myself in a local bookstore. I was glancing at the children's section and picked up this one particular hardbound book. It was short so I decided to read it. I started balling right there in the bookstore. The book was about celebrating the "lasts." So many firsts in life are celebrated, first word, first time you walk, first time you crawl, first foods eaten, first homerun, first date, first time you drive a car, and on and on. However, in life we never celebrate the lasts. Now granted I know sometimes you never know that this will be the last time something is ever done, but that is what this book was about. The last time the mom stayed up all night with the baby, the last time the baby crawled, the last time the child was picked up and held on her hip, the last time she read the child a book, and so on and so on. I bought the book. Not sure why, because to this day I can not read it again. Anytime Josie wants to read it, I tell her to go to her Daddy. However, reading it while I had a small child and one on the way opened my eyes to a new way of thinking. Life happens fast and is constantly changing. As the girls grow every once in a while I stop and remember this may be the last time this ever happens. And although it makes me sad, at the same time some of those moments will stay with me as they grow up. Last night we had our normal problems getting Josie to bed. Joe was in the shower and I was in the recliner when she again walked out of her room and came to me. She wanted another hug and kiss. I put her in my lap and held her like she was a baby and I rocked her to sleep. I rocked my 3 year old to sleep. I had given up rocking my babies a long time ago, not because I wanted to, because they didn't want to be rocked. Once I knew she was really asleep I went and laid her down. I looked at Joe and said that was easy enough, and I could handle doing that every night. I guess I had given up on something that wasn't quite ready to be a last yet.