Onto planting the starts I bought yesterday. (Yes, I bought kale and lettuce starts because I really couldn't get mine going from seed very well and I really need daily homemade raw kale salads and green smoothies. I need them soon. Impatience does have its place. Oh well, looks like my garden isn't ALL from seed. So sue me.)
Today was also watching my little girls get older. Realizing that the magical age of four is almost past with my second girl. On a brief jaunt downtown I saw a cute journal made especially for recording all the cute things your kids say. My kids still say some cute things, especially the younger, but they are getting more and more sensical and so I realized my time to have bought that journal had passed. It stung, just a little. Marshmallows are not Meshmarlows anymore. Helicopters are not Helioboppers. You know.
They are not babies. I have two healthy and sweet little girls. And on they will turn into beautiful, happy and wise women. And you know what? They will always be my babies. I am so happy to have daughters. I thought maybe I'd be lucky enough to have one. But no, I was blessed with two. I'm thinking they can go to college right down the way and I can still make their lunches and do their hair. I have it all planned out.
Sometimes I think it would have been nice to have a boy too. I would have named him Bruno. That's my dad's middle name. Sometimes I think about the Bruno I never had and I hold his little body in my mind. I wonder if maybe the Brad's surgery will untie accidentally. It could happen, right? But, then again, who can hold a baby while selling quilts at the shore? Who can sew for hours a day? Our lives are full to the max and my childbearing years are over. I think it's just that feeling of mortality, you know.
C'est la vie, baby.
weekending with Habit Of Being