I know I’ve reblogged this before. But a friend of mine asked for a printing, and I am currently struggling with Littlest being both a two year old and teething (two molars at that!)… I feel like I have an infant again. Up all night, crying all day. His siblings either have the patience of saints or are equally as tired of his “fussing” because they’ve given up their snacks, given up their toys,and even requested Littlest’s favorites for their TV time (which never happens) in order to pacify him. And the bottom picture makes me remember how teeny-tiny he was, how short that lasted, and how much I love them, and a quick reminder of why I parent the way I do… even when I want to put myself in time out. Or start drinking at 10am.
So as we had some quiet family time together on the couch tonight, we were doing our infant massage techniques on our kids who are no longer infants, while the actual infant (who, waah!, is no longer an infant either, but now a toddler) watched from the sidelines with interest. We began to just talk, and the big Es are currently obsessed with telling you their favorites and so their lists came bubbling out. Then they talked about things like when they get married, and when they are grown ups, and asked questions like, Will we be huuuge grown ups? And would it be ok to wait 90 years before becoming a daddy? And as we told them that it wasn’t necessary to wait 90 years, but preferred to wait until they were really grown ups and were married. I couldn’t help but think about all the…
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