My sweet, physical, fierce, tender kid turned 10 two weeks ago.
One decade of him.
Ten years of:
Late nights—oh no, he’s up too late; why won’t he sleep?; reading books x 1 zillion; “come on kid, let’s get those teeth brushed!”
Middle-of-the-nights—feedings; diaper changes; bad dreams; rocking rocking rocking; “I don’t know why I’m awake mama I just am;” phone scrolling; wondering if we’re doing it right/doing enough
Early mornings—sweet baby smell; bright eyes; new words that weren’t there the night before; quiet playtime; exhaustion; Special Time x 1 zillion; rushing rushing rushing to daycare/preschool/school/bus
… and so much time in between full of H, the way he is, the way he has always been.
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