The end of October and the sun shines in my window like it did in July. But now the leaves of the Ash tree out my left window lie on the ground and the tree out my right window sways with yellow and red leaves.
Hand me a bottle so I can capture this brilliance.
If this sun were the one of March or April - filled with hope of much more to come I wouldn't be so nostalgic to see it. But this is the sun of October meaning this appearance must be one of her last for the season.
Life's best always seem even better when they are about to end.
On Labor Day weekend, we soak and splash in the pool like it was the first time.
In the middle of August, we sleep as long as possible (well I do anyway) and plan hours of nothing before hectic schedules begin.
We stay up late talking on the last night because there will never be another night like this one.
And really isn't the last bite of pie the best one?
I held Asa early this morning before we turned the lights on and felt the weight of his body bearing on my arm. At 18 months, Buddy Boo really can't be called a baby anymore. His legs spilled off of my lap and I could just barely bring back the feeling of holding his teeny tiny body for the first time. We sat while I watched Asher and Amelie scamper back and forth in the hallway between their rooms. Watched Amelie dress herself. Watched Asher actually initiate inviting Amelie into his room.
There is no end in sight for this busy hands on stage of parenting, but everyday marks the end of one phase or another.
Hand me a bottle so I can capture this brilliance.
If this sun were the one of March or April - filled with hope of much more to come I wouldn't be so nostalgic to see it. But this is the sun of October meaning this appearance must be one of her last for the season.
Life's best always seem even better when they are about to end.
On Labor Day weekend, we soak and splash in the pool like it was the first time.
In the middle of August, we sleep as long as possible (well I do anyway) and plan hours of nothing before hectic schedules begin.
We stay up late talking on the last night because there will never be another night like this one.
And really isn't the last bite of pie the best one?
I held Asa early this morning before we turned the lights on and felt the weight of his body bearing on my arm. At 18 months, Buddy Boo really can't be called a baby anymore. His legs spilled off of my lap and I could just barely bring back the feeling of holding his teeny tiny body for the first time. We sat while I watched Asher and Amelie scamper back and forth in the hallway between their rooms. Watched Amelie dress herself. Watched Asher actually initiate inviting Amelie into his room.
There is no end in sight for this busy hands on stage of parenting, but everyday marks the end of one phase or another.
No comments:
Post a Comment