Awwww. Aren’t they adorable?

Those are my three kids.

Nine years ago.

They are still adorable, but they’re not so little anymore. My oldest is about to turn 17. My youngest daughter will be 15 in a few weeks. My baby boy is 12.

Those of you teens and tweens reading this are rolling your eyes. (imagine what my kids are doing ) But you need to know what pictures like this do to your parents and grandparents, your aunts and uncles, the nursery workers who changed your diapers…it makes us a little sad.

Sure, we’re glad you’re growing up. My kids are amazing. I am beyond proud of the young women and young man they are becoming.

But I miss that age. They all speak clearly, now, no cute little mispronunciations. They no longer enjoy sitting on the floor and singing “The Wheel on the Bus.”  They don’t go through an entire box of Dora Band-Aids in one day.

Because of this, when I see little guys – especially my own nieces and nephews – I want to pinch cheeks and tickle bellies and play peek-a-boo. All those things I don’t get to do with my kids, anymore.

And, occasionally, when I just can’t stand it, I grab my kids and pinch their cheeks. I can’t help it. I spent years doing just that. Now it’s over. I can’t stop cold-turkey.

So this Christmas, when your Aunt Bertha comes over and goes in for a hug, her fingers poised right in front of your face, smile and lean in. Let her pinch away. She misses it. She loves you. She’s remembering those childhood days gone by.

And, if it hurts too badly, you can always go put a Dora Band-Aid on it