Tomorrow you’ll be taller and wiser than you were today.
Tomorrow you’ll listen and not throw a fit when it’s time to go.
Tomorrow you’ll use the potty all by yourself and not need my assistance for that private time. I will also be able to use it without an audience.
Tomorrow you’ll speak clearly and your words will be understood by all.
Tomorrow you’ll write your name; first, middle and last.
Tomorrow you’ll roll your eyes and think I’m the worst.
Tomorrow you’ll still be annoyed by my telling you, “No”.
Tomorrow you’ll clean up your room without my help and willingly stay in there for hours and hours.
Tomorrow you’ll read books that don’t have pictures and ask to stay up later to finish the chapter.
Tomorrow you’ll pick your own clothes, you’ll dress yourself and tie your shoes.
Tomorrow you won’t pretend to be a robot, a superhero, or a pirate.
Tomorrow you’ll tell me “everyone is doing it” and I’ll ask, “if everyone jumped off a bridge, would you?”
Tomorrow you won’t take my hand and cross the street, instead you’ll drive a car on it.
Tomorrow you won’t need me to cut up your bagel so you can eat it with a fork.
Tomorrow you’ll have facial hair and you’ll need to be taught how to shave.
Tomorrow you’ll go on a date or to a party and I’ll be home with the ability to sleep, but unable to.
Tomorrow you won’t sit on my lap, or need to touch me all the time. You won’t feel compelled to use me as your jungle gym or poke me in the eye. Tomorrow you won’t grab my cheeks with both of your little hands and cover my face in kisses and say “Wuv You.”
Tomorrow will come and I’ll long for yesterday. Right now though, I’ll sit here and feel the goodness that today brings.