We have a tower fan in our family room. We've had it since the year Emma was born, and I have many memories of begging Emma to turn it on, turn it off, turn it toward me, and turn it away from me. It used to be that she'd reach her little arms up and had no hope of reaching the buttons. Then, last summer, she could reach the buttons with a kitchen stool. But Emma just said to me, "Mom- look! I'm as tall as the fan!" And as I turned to look I realized, she is in fact, as tall as the fan. How can this be? How is it that my firstborn is walking and talking, and spelling, and singing, and dancing, and reading, getting her own drinks out of the fridge, and picking coordinated outfits? Today I realized just how quickly life is motoring. And that makes me sad!