The tradition in our house on mother’s day is this: the children bring me breakfast in bed and as I eat they give me handmade cards and wonderful presents that they have created in school. I have always delighted in the excitement on their faces but never fully appreciated their desire to please me on this special day.

Until today, I did not realize how quickly the magic fades.

All week, my three younger children brought home their hand wrapped creations and hid them away. Every day my first grader repeated how much he couldn’t wait until Sunday, with an enthusiasm usually reserved for a birthday or Christmas.

This morning my third grader set his alarm on his own and quietly woke up his dad to make coffee for me to go with breakfast.

My three year old has been running around with her gift all week.

But silent through all of this was my fifth grader. I remember, in years past, the eagerness and anticipation that he used to show. When he was in first grade, he had me open his gift the day he brought it home. I still have that beautiful, hand painted flower pot with the memories attached.

Today, that same little boy, slept a little late, through the breakfast preparation. And in a manner more reserved, gave me card he had made at home (no more school made gifts this year).

Now, I am not being selfish, I do appreciate this increased level of maturity, but I do miss that darling little boy of years past. And I will cherish the lavish attention of the younger children until they, too, prefer to celebrate in different ways.