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The 15th


It's quiet tonight. Everyone in my house is asleep.

Tomorrow morning the quiet will be broken by the sound of 4 little feet coming down the stairs. I'll hear, "Mommeee? Where Dahee?" from my baby boy. He'll be 3 on Wednesday.

I don't wish I could freeze time. I know what frozen time looks like, and it's awful.

I will celebrate every single milestone, every single birthday, and I will smile...because the alternative is a nightmare.

Just like so many parents out there right now though, I am ready for my kiddos to head to school. They've been bored with me for quite awhile now ;) and we are ready to get back into a routine.

But on August 15th...

My sweet 5 year old starts kindergarten.

My spunky boy turns 3.

And my tiny baby will be celebrating 4 months in Heaven.

That's a lot in one day for a momma heart.

I'm terrified, and excited. Nervous, and anticipatory. My hormones have been all over the place ever since Gabriel's birth. I cry over "nothing" and say things I shouldn't. People forgive me because...it's still so fresh.

I wish I didn't need extra grace right now. I wish every conversation didn't turn to death. I wish for just once I could talk and be 'normal.'

I wish my boys were here.

Man do I wish they were here.

Sometimes I scoop Edward up and just rock him. He's still small enough to rock like a little baby (when he lets me) and I just close my eyes and kiss those little cheeks, breathing in his littleness.

I realized tonight that he swings on a regular "big kid" swing now. When did that happen? We're done with baby swings. Done with high chairs. Done with bouncers. Done with walkers. Done with bottles. Done with so many firsts.

Every momma goes through these last firsts. It's bittersweet.

For me right now, it's more bitter than sweet.

I'm okay.

But I'm really not okay.

And that's...okay.

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