Those people are right.
As I was reflecting on our recent coast weekend I came across pictures from a similar trip of a few years ago.
Madeleine and Sarah were still tiny enough to ride the individual ferris wheel at our favorite kitschy stop in Florence, Oregon. Sarah was finally big enough to climb the lighthouse stairs. (This is actually what got me started reminiscing about that trip: this year it was Grace who celebrated her graduation to stair climber.) Grace was a toddler not to be trusted on the shore. As a highlight in our waterfront cabin stay that year we flattened pennies on the railroad track. I think this is against the law. Don't tell anyone about our flagrant flaunting, pretty please.
At that time we didn't yet know that Sarah is practically sightless without glasses. She would cry when Madeleine would point out whales spouting and she always missed them. At that time we didn't know how many more seats we'll eventually fill in a Suburban.
And at that time we really didn't know what I hope we know now. It's fleeting. Before you know it those babies are reading A Swiftly Tilting Planet (with no sense of irony whatsoever for how swiftly my planet is tilting with their growth) and discussing it amongst themselves. They're campaigning for the rights to pierce ears, take a Red Cross class in babysitting and wear contacts.
And I want to say: Just let me focus on these moments. I always miss them.