Don’t blink. All the parenting advice, country songs, and even well-meaning relatives talk about how if you blink, next thing you know, your kids will be all grown up. One day they come home, running to you, excited to see you, giving you the biggest hug. The next, you’re getting a half side-hug and being called “bro.”

They don’t talk about how much faster it feels when you don’t see them every day. When you go a full week (or longer for some families) without seeing them, and suddenly, they’re taller. Their faces have changed more. Maybe even their voices. So, if you’re not supposed to blink when you have your kids full-time, what are you supposed to do when you don’t?

It’s not just missing them growing an inch taller in a week. You’ve missed the new haircut they got without mentioning it. The excitement over a new friend or an invite to a party they couldn’t wait to tell you about. You weren’t there to comfort them after that tough day at school, or to give them a pep talk before the big test. And sometimes, it’s not even about the big stuff—it’s the small, everyday moments you miss that can sting the most. No real routine exists for when they’re at your house; every visit is different, making it hard to feel like you’re fully caught up in their lives.

Our schedule with the kids is kind of consistent, but not at the same time. We follow a two-week rotating schedule. To simplify it, I’ll start with our weekends. When it’s our weekend, we pick them up after school on Friday, and they stay with us until Tuesday morning when we take them to school. On the weeks that aren’t our weekend, we still get them after school on Monday, but they go back to their mom’s Tuesday evening. The only real structure is that they spend every Monday night with us.

It’s hard. But I feel bad even saying that because, in many ways, we’re considered one of the lucky ones. Some families only get every other weekend.

When I met my bonus kids, the youngest was just two years old. She was potty training back then. Now she’s in 3rd grade. This last weekend, I was doing laundry when I found something I wasn’t expecting—a training bra. I was completely shocked! I mean… she’s 8! The weekend before, she wasn’t wearing one.

I called her into my room and asked her about it. She shrugged and said, “I don’t know. My mom just told me I needed to.” It was such a small moment, but one that hit me hard. They grow so fast, and sometimes it feels like you miss all these milestones happening right before your eyes. I reassured her that she could always talk to me or her dad about things going on in her life. I also told her that if she needed something new or wanted to talk about anything, she could always come to me so I could make sure we had what she needed at our house too.

My husband and I try not to miss major things—big school events, practices, games, even things like parent-teacher conferences and special awards ceremonies. But I think it’s the little things we miss that hurt the most. Our oldest two have cell phones, and we’ve recently started a group chat with the four of us. We try to send something daily, even if it’s just a simple “Good morning” or “Have a great day, I love you.” It’s not the same as being there, but it’s our way of staying connected when we’re apart, reminding them that we’re always here, even during the in-between moments.

It’s hard for me to give advice in the moment to other parents. Honestly, as I’m writing this, I’m feeling a little emotional. It’s not our weekend, and we haven’t seen them since Tuesday. I did go to swim practice yesterday to watch our 8-year-old. She did tell me, “thank you for coming,” which meant the world to me, but it wasn’t exactly what I’d call “quality time.”

And that’s the part that’s hardest—those in-between moments, when you’re not quite there but still trying to stay connected. We do our best with what we’re given. We make it to the practices, the games, and the school events, and we send those daily texts to remind them we’re thinking of them. But at the end of the day, we miss them. We miss the little things, and it’s okay to admit that.

For anyone else in this position, know that it’s okay to feel like you’re missing pieces, even when you’re doing your best. All we can do is keep showing up—whether it’s in person or with a simple “Good morning” in the group chat—and hope they feel our love no matter how much time passes between the next hug or the next half-side hug with a “bro” tossed in.