It's so hard to truly appreciate just how fleeting those moments are until they have vanished and you're left with mud-covered, "give me back my ball!" shouting hooligans wrestling in your backyard.
Now don't get me wrong, I love those hooligans fiercely. But one day everybody wakes up and realizes just how quickly all those sweet sugary-lump snuggley neck-smelling times gave way roly poly learning to sit up times, which gave way to he-called-me-"mama" times, then he took his first wobbly step times, and so on. And you can't stop from feeling a strangely sad and sweet tug at your heart; they will never, ever be those babies again.
And even though you realize that you're a giant walking cliche, and a small part of you still cringes whenever you realize your parents were right, you can't help but start blubbering about how they'll be in high school in two weeks, college in three, married in four. (or six -- it's okay to wait, kids.)
And then this commercial comes on, and it's all over.