We disassembled the crib this weekend and put bunkbeds up in the girls' room. "What should we do with it?" asked my husband, because for the first time in nearly a decade there were no tiny Sabourins waiting in the wings, or more accurately my bulging belly, to save it for. This, is my baby - my nearly three-year-old, ultra-perceptive, talk your ear off, jokester of a daughter growing more independent by the second. They told me it would all pass by in a heartbeat, those mothers, aunts, and grandmas with grown children of their own, but I ignored them, probably because my up all night newborn was unusually fussy or our potty training toddler was peeing on the kitchen floor and I couldn't, right then, make sense of anything. But now the days that once felt like forty-two hours long seem to have been shaved to a scant fifteen minutes - now I understand, precisely, why seizing each moment is imperative.
Cozy and content
5 hours ago