It's been a long couple of weeks for my family since our yardsale, and I'm having a tough time really defining WHY. Or rather isolating the primary reasons WHY, because there are myriad to choose from:
I mean, the yardsale was a huge schedule-iterruptus what with all of the preparation, and then having my parents in town to help, and then the event itself, followed by all of the clean up etc. There was also the emotional HIGH of making more money than we thought we possibly could, followed by the emotional low of realizing how much more we still need and confronting the fact that JR is rapidly approaching 44 (6 months & counting) which is the age limit in The Land Far Away for adopting an infant. Our agency doesn't think that it will be a problem since I am 31 and am the primary parent, but still. It would be a whole lot nicer to get our dossier turned in before JR's age could possibly make a difference. Sigh.
Then we all got colds. In MAY. And Grasshopper upgraded his with a double ear infection, because that's how he rolls, yo.
We had Grasshopper's last day of school this past week, and I was so miserable with my cold that I wasn't up to making lemon squares and attending the end of the year picnic. My little guy was so disappointed, but I could tell by looking at the faces of the other parents when I picked him up that they wouldn't have eaten anything made by my sniffling self anyway. But *gah* the end of school. How is that even possible? And he doesn't go back until September.
We're planning Grasshopper's third birthday party, which will be a joint affair with The Monkey Boy, since they are twins as well as best buddies. My kid is almost exactly 2 hours older than his BFF (if you factor in time-zones) and will be rubbing that fact in soon, I imagine.
Planning his party is lots of fun, especially since we're co-hosting with TMB's mommies and therefore don't have to do it all ourselves! Unfortunately, I am not ready for my baby to be three. I mean, I know that there's no stopping it. I know how grown-up he is becoming every day and how proud of him I am for it. But I also always thought that I would have another baby to love and snuggle and hold by the time my first baby was a gangly-limbed BOY. A boy who seldom slows down for hugs and kisses, these days.
Right now it just seems like each single day is taking an eternity to pass, and yet time as a whole is rushing along so fast that my hair is streaming out behind me as I try to stand my ground. To remain in the present. And to find some joy in each day.