bittersweet.

Ingrid lost her lovie and I'm feeling sad.  She has graciously agreed to stay a baby for a bit longer and is even stroking the back up bunny's ear against her nose.  I think she's humoring me.  She knows I'm not ready to let go yet. 

This week, I told a friend that unless Ingrid expressed verbally that she was ready to potty train, I wasn't going to start that madness.  She is my last baby, I'm in no hurry.  That very day she marched up to me and pulled at the front of her very wet  diaper with a look of disgust and attempted to rip the thing off.  She also added some grunts and noises for full effect.

Things are changing.  My boy is making leaps and bounds and is writing his name.  My big girl needs a bigger bike.  My baby is barely a baby any more.  I want to freeze them right where they are so I don't miss anything.  And yet.  They keep going.  And growing.  Two mornings a week, both of my big kids are at school and Ingrid and I look at each other like, "This is really weird.  What are we supposed to do now?"

In August, we surprised the big kids with a trip to Disneyland.  We left Ingrid at home, knowing that if we waited for her to be big enough that we might miss the magic for the other two.  I'm so glad we went.

“Life sneaks up on us every once in a while and gives us something we didn't ever know we wanted, and lights within us a love we didn't even know existed.”
― Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines: Celebrating the Extraordinary Nature of Everyday Life