THREE
Today is my first born's third birthday. We went to Chuck E. Cheese at his request, we went to the toy store just to play, he's napping now in his new train bed. After I put him to bed, tucked him in, he got up and shut the door behind me.
Last night I had a little tiny private meltdown. Jaya stood by and didn't ask questions. Finally he wiped my tears and smiled at me and in the sweetest way said, "Our baby". This sent me to town for a few more minutes and then I went to bed.
I think I've subconciously decided to have secret wimping sorrow at each and every anniversary of my children's births. Like breadcrumbs tossed along the way. Though I know I can never retrace my steps. I know it's futile. Nonetheless, I mourn each year that passes for myself. For my boys it is a celebration. They get better, stronger, smarter, more beautiful with each moment. For me, I am afraid that this is the best it will be and that it's going away. Waste of time, I know. I try to focus on the glory, but I do allow the private moments of sadness, just to even things out.
Choco desperately ate tiny fragments of pizza crust today. I wonder how long it will take CPS to show up when they find out what I've been feeding my infant. Cai is getting a cold and I'm praying the worst will pass so that he can really enjoy Saturday, his first real 'kid' b-day party.
The sun is shining this week. Spring is really here even though it's barely March. My garden is only half planted, but those fabulous weeds with the sweet little yellow flowers have taken residence in the bare parts. Thank goodness for small favors. Wreckage and mindnumbing ickiness aside, it is still all worth it, and then some.
Last night I had a little tiny private meltdown. Jaya stood by and didn't ask questions. Finally he wiped my tears and smiled at me and in the sweetest way said, "Our baby". This sent me to town for a few more minutes and then I went to bed.
I think I've subconciously decided to have secret wimping sorrow at each and every anniversary of my children's births. Like breadcrumbs tossed along the way. Though I know I can never retrace my steps. I know it's futile. Nonetheless, I mourn each year that passes for myself. For my boys it is a celebration. They get better, stronger, smarter, more beautiful with each moment. For me, I am afraid that this is the best it will be and that it's going away. Waste of time, I know. I try to focus on the glory, but I do allow the private moments of sadness, just to even things out.
Choco desperately ate tiny fragments of pizza crust today. I wonder how long it will take CPS to show up when they find out what I've been feeding my infant. Cai is getting a cold and I'm praying the worst will pass so that he can really enjoy Saturday, his first real 'kid' b-day party.
The sun is shining this week. Spring is really here even though it's barely March. My garden is only half planted, but those fabulous weeds with the sweet little yellow flowers have taken residence in the bare parts. Thank goodness for small favors. Wreckage and mindnumbing ickiness aside, it is still all worth it, and then some.
