I brought my son to the orthodontist the other day. I had braces so I know how much it sucks when they have to be tightened. It’s sucky because that night and usually throughout the next day, your gums and teeth are really sore.

Because of this, I’m extra sweet to my wittle baby-waby. Usually I’ll get him McDonald’s afterwards; you know, the old tried and true method of making a kid feel better.

But since I’m trying to lose my quarantine-15 and I’ve never been known to pass up a French fry, I used a different comfort technique.

For the 15-minute car ride, I let him listen to whatever he wanted. He chose the soundtrack to a computer game he plays called Undertale. My boys love it. For me, it’s equivalent to smashing a bottle, picking up the shards of glass, and sticking them in your ears until they bleed.

On the way back I put it on again, and after 30 seconds I almost threw myself out of the moving vehicle, so I said, “I’m sorry honey, but I have to turn this off.” He’s so sweet that he asked if I wanted to listen to Post Malone.

I looked in the rearview mirror at his big brown eyes that used to stare up at me as I held him in my arms. My gaze drifted a little south to where he now has a mustache and thought to myself, “He’s going to hate me soon.”

It’s only natural. Maybe not HATE, but he’s going to get those feelings of: She’s so dumb. She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t remember what it’s like to be my age.

But because none of those things are true, I am well-aware of how he will be feeling soon, and I HATE it.

These past 12 years have been the quickest of my life. I’m scared that the next 12 will go by just as fast. Soon I’ll be looking at the teeth of a grown man and remembering all the trips to the orthodontist as a distant memory. The fuzzy caterpillar mustache will be replaced with rough stubble.

Why am I crying right now? This is what we want; for our kids to grow up and thrive and become good people. But it is so bittersweet.

I know PJ is feeling it too. Before bedtime last night, I went to my son’s room and he was in there. He usually says a quick goodnight and goes back downstairs to watch TV. Instead, last night, he jumped out to scare him, then tickle-tortured him, then lingered, and was just generally being annoying until I yelled at him to stop and let him go to bed. I know this was his way of trying to hold on to these moments that are slipping by so quickly.

I’m crying again.