Today the fog was so thick, I probably could only see 20 yards in front of me. Everything visible was beaded with the water from the weekend’s rain. Strands of water droplets like chandeliers on every blade of grass, every flower head.
It was a living metaphor for taking a step even when you can’t see what’s ahead.
By the end of my walk, the fog had lifted some, the sun burning through, the blue sky revealing itself. A welcomed change after three days of playing inside.
The energy is literally screaming to come out of these maniacs. At one point they were playing in Little Bean’s room, making such unbelievable noise. I went up to see and they said that they were pretending there was a monster who they were scaring away by yelling at it.
Another time I heard dog sounds, little barks and yelps from one while the other one shouted things like, Get it Pluto! Turns out they were playing fetch–the one was the owner and the other one the dog. Surprisingly they took turns, each one getting a chance to boss the other one around.
5 years ago tonight I was in hour 1 million of labor with Big Sister.
Tonight at bedtime we discussed idea of doing these first five years all over again.
She said, Yeah but if we start all over, I’ll be a baby again. Then my birthday party will be no fun for my friends! I know that you want me to stay four, Mommy, but I want to be five! I can’t wait to be five.
You’re right. I said smiling, I’m excited for you. I just want you to stay my baby forever and ever.
I will always be your baby. She answered, Even when I’m all grown up. And when I’m at school, she continued, and I feel sad I’m going to think about that–her voiced cracked–to make me feel better. She turned over to go to sleep.
Here I am feeling sentimental and this old soul is fighting tears about growing up and she’s only five.
She called to me a few minutes later, One more goodnight kiss? How could I resist?