Not so fast, please.

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I swear it was less than a week ago we were telling our only daughter she was going to be a big sister. I swear. But somehow, time has fastforwarded to this place where we are in full swing of raising two beautiful girls who are growing right before our eyes! Our new baby is not so new anymore. She is growing into a wonderful little person with tons of energy and oodles of independance. One minute she is the sweetest little cuddle-up-with-my-mama-and-piggit-staring-into-mama's-eyes kind of 19 month old, and the next she is barreling through the house at such a pace that even I can't keep up with her laps around the living room (beit on my hands & knees...:o) I couldn't be more proud of my girls. They are such a joy! Such an exhausting, frustrating, grit-my-teeth-so-much-of-the-time joy. But as much as I enjoy those first few moments when they are both tucked into bed & I can finally, say, go to the bathroom in total peace; deep down I cherish every moment of it. They are my babies. MINE. The ones I begged God for night after night as we tried and tried to get pregnant, and while surviving the unbearable loss of two angels while I waited for them. I'm trying to take my own personal snapshots of these moments in my mind and lock them away to never be forgotten. They will never happen again. At least not the way they are now.


Our big girl will be turning five in about 3 months. FIVE. That is insane. She is turning into this thoughtful little lady who I can (well, most of the time) have rational conversations with. She is my friend. Even on those days when she says she's not my friend anymore... ;o) We have fun together. Both of us! We goof around and tell secrets and she's still my cuddle bug in the evenings. I hope she doesn't outgrow that too quickly.

I love them. Love just doesn't seem like a strong enough word. I live for them. They are what makes me, me. And in the blink of an eye they will be grown. Living their own lives. Dreaming their own dreams. And they will still be my everything.


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