Man, I wish I was up north at the cabin day drinking on the lake rather than here, day drinking while packing in bursts between naps & sleep. We're loving that we're home for the long weekend and that the weather has been playing nice. I'm just overwhelmed as I try to figure out what to keep, what to trash, and what to take to Goodwill. I've been following that whole "if you touch it and it brings you joy" crap, but it just makes me feel like Dorothy in Return to Oz. Haven't seen it? I'll lend it to you. It's a grown-up return trip to Oz (don't let your kids watch it until you do).
I'm so SO excited to have space, but today I found myself saying out loud, "It's going to be 3 people in a 4 bedroom house." Excessive. And another reminder that we're a family of three.
-- Porch just came upstairs with a bag of remaining syringes and drugs and I wanted to die. Just melt into the floor. He's still talking and I'm still .... just here. Remembering the twinge of pain as I did my first injection, the smell of rubbing alcohol and how I've not once been able to smell it without cringing ever since the first night. Apparently we're taking them to the pharmacy. I don't know how I effectively participated in that conversation.
They say you'll just know when your family is complete. What if we're forced to move through life incomplete? What if -- those 4 remaining embabies don't stick if/when we transfer? What if Charlie is my last (only) baby? What if every memory is the last of its kind as we propel forward? Charlotte is growing like a weed and we're so proud of the person she is & how she's growing. She's amazing and I am so thankful she's ours; but the baby is gone. Her cheeks look slimmer every day and I'm certain that soon, she's going to fully turn into the two-year-old I'm expecting and become an independent person.
Then what?
Mama Porch
I'm so SO excited to have space, but today I found myself saying out loud, "It's going to be 3 people in a 4 bedroom house." Excessive. And another reminder that we're a family of three.
-- Porch just came upstairs with a bag of remaining syringes and drugs and I wanted to die. Just melt into the floor. He's still talking and I'm still .... just here. Remembering the twinge of pain as I did my first injection, the smell of rubbing alcohol and how I've not once been able to smell it without cringing ever since the first night. Apparently we're taking them to the pharmacy. I don't know how I effectively participated in that conversation.
They say you'll just know when your family is complete. What if we're forced to move through life incomplete? What if -- those 4 remaining embabies don't stick if/when we transfer? What if Charlie is my last (only) baby? What if every memory is the last of its kind as we propel forward? Charlotte is growing like a weed and we're so proud of the person she is & how she's growing. She's amazing and I am so thankful she's ours; but the baby is gone. Her cheeks look slimmer every day and I'm certain that soon, she's going to fully turn into the two-year-old I'm expecting and become an independent person.
Then what?
Mama Porch
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