From time to time, you walk up from your teenage lair (aka the basement) and I have to blink again to recognize and remember that the little boy you’ll always be to me is far closer to being a man than the baby I love so much.
I’m sure some people will call this “lazy” and that’s fine. I call it preserving energy.
As I tried to explain the grey zone, it occurred to me that learning the little, and often nuanced things in life can sometimes be the hardest. The unspoken rules. The “best practices”. The things we might only learn the hard way when something has blown up in our face.
Two years ago this morning, nothing felt like it was going fast. For a week, I’d been struggling through discomfort and end-of-pregnancy misery. I was hormonal. I was tired. I was having off-and-on contractions (which had also happened with S, who’d arrived a month ahead of his due date). In fact, two years ago this… Continue reading two fast
I love my kids. In fact, I’m pretty obsessed with the three of them. They’re among my absolute favourite human beings on this earth. And the decision to drop them off with other people every day isn’t always an easy one to make. Even now, as the littlest boys near two and four, there are days I wish I could just keep them at home with me all day.
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