The writing's on the wall

Yes it is. Quite literally. In fact, if you didn't know any better, you may actually think we encourage that sort of thing in our house. Who could forget when Anna learned to write her name...and practiced writing it all over the upstairs walls? I think I stopped counting the ANNAs at twenty.

Or how about this one written with-none other than-eye liner. Y'all. I don't even wear eye liner. That eye pencil has probably moved with me at least four times, taking up occupancy in many makeup drawers over the years.

You've gotta love this perfect "S" in my entryway. Rose tried to pass this off as Lucy's handiwork. (I mean, we know she's gifted, but she's not that gifted.)

They've splashed hieroglyphics on the tumbled marble in the kitchen,














as well as my burnt orange and white dining room. It's everywhere.

I started thinking about that saying--the writing's on the wall--and how it refers to impending doom, or something coming to an end. In the book of Daniel, King Belshazzar summons Daniel to decrypt the words that had mysteriously appeared on the palace walls. Daniel warned him that God had numbered the days of his kingdom, then that very night, King Belshazzar was slain. Daniel saw the writing on the wall. Thus, the origin of the phrase.

History lesson aside, I realize that all too soon this life--as we know it now--will end. The baby bottles are no longer taking up space in my cabinets. The pantry shelf that used to house baby food jars, Gerber puffs, and rice cereal now holds peanut butter crackers, fruit snacks, and craisins. The writing's on the wall. These days are numbered.

Before we know it, eye liner will be lining Anna's beautiful green eyes--not my bathroom walls. Instead of telling me they love me back after I tell the kids I love them, there will be a day when my "I love you" is returned with an eye roll or a slammed door. (I can't wait for that.) Like mothers for generations before me, I see the writing on the wall. So I cherish every hug, kiss, and "I love you" from their little mouths. And I'll cherish every window slathered in handprints. I'll cherish finding sippy cups in odd places. Instead of exasperation over another rotten milk find, I'll choose to be amused--and bemused--that Lucy left a sippy cup in a bathroom cabinet or tucked under the legs of the dining room table. It's her signature "Lucy was here."

I will admit that of course I'd love to have the house painted. But I think we'll wait on that. As I said, the writing's on the wall, and our days are numbered...but we aren't there yet! I'm hanging on to this time when Nick Jr. satisfies their entertainment needs, when I can scoop them up on my lap and kiss their dirty cheeks, when life is magical and safe. Because time is zooming by, and it won't stop for anything.

The writing's on the wall.