Seven

My tiny guy. You’re always taller. taller. Taller. There are always moments where my head says, “no one ever said this would happen.” Moments like when your son, after the 33rd kiss goodnight, reaches his arms around your neck and holds you tight and sleepily whispers, “I luh you so much, mommy,” and you just hug and hug and hug until you feel him let go because you don’t want to let go a moment before that. Don’t let go before that moment. Just don’t. They start out so angry and squishy and tiny. “I was so comfortable in there. Harumph.”lz10192009

You just can’t fathom that they would become something like this guy here, two weeks ago:

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It’s sort of the same smirk from his newborn photo. That, “leave me alone, mom, I really love you.” God, I love this kid. More than I can ever express. It hurts my heart that time flies so quickly. There are so many details to iron out each day and it feels like the list keeps growing, distracting you from these moments. I just want to hang on to my babies, squeeze them and never let them go. Starlit from within, they all are. I love the people they are becoming. Happy 7th Birthday, my dear love. Your hugs are so big and strong, they last for forever.

xo,

mom

 

 

  • Julie Blackard - Nar, reading this post takes me flying back to when it was YOU and I was doing this feeling. You write so beautifully and poetically of your feelings for your little parameciae. Those amazing little creations that squeeze the stuffing right out of your heart. They make you so proud while they squeeze the life and breath out of you. I want to grab you and squeeze you til the lights go out!

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