Ch Ch Change

Oh how neglectful I have been of my poor blog! It’s not for lack of having things to write about either, I’ve just been ridiculously busy with this work transition and then when I get home, I have no desire to go down to the cold cold basement……so, I’ve been reading, always reading, and sending a few tweets by phone, but other than that, I guess I’ve been pretty much MIA.

So yeah, work is in-freaking-sane, but I can’t really discuss any of that, so you’ll have to take my word for it. I’m ok though, we’re ok. But crap! It’s a lot.

Somehow, Liv turned 7-months-old on Sunday. I am not entirely sure where the time goes. I feel like we are trapped in a vortex or something. I mean, 7 months. Closer to being a year old than she is to her actual birth. Closer to becoming, well, not a baby. We moved her in to her crib (and out of our bedroom) last week, and while it’s the sort of thing you think would get easier with the third child, it was harder than I thought it would be to not sleep on her bedroom floor. I like being able to hear her breathe. I like reaching over and placing my hand on her belly, feeling it rise and fall. I’m getting used to checking her when I make my usual rounds of the big kids. But still…it’s hard.

And speaking of getting older, we picked up Bud’s kindergarten registration crap yesterday; oodles of paperwork and documentation (and maybe fingerprints and drops of blood……) and it kind of hit me……I am going to have a school-aged child. In September, my baby will be riding the bus, and spending every day from 9:30-3:30 at school. He felt like such a big kid, going in to the school with Hub to pick everything up. He’s excited about kindergarten. I am not so much.

Thankfully, Lucy is still pretty much Lucy. No major milestones, no changes. She’s 3 ½ and I struggle to remember that sometimes; Hub and I both do—holding her to the same standards we do Bud. But she’s still just little (and also hell on wheels). We were surprised at her parent/teacher conference last week to hear just how well behaved and controlled she is at school; how smart she is. This is not the case at home. And she will refuse to recite letters or try and draw them. (she will however sing the national anthem on cue, which is adorable) But at school, she is good. She is where she should be. Before we know it though, we’ll put her on the bus too and only have Liv’s babyhood (or lack thereof) to cling to.

I told Hub the other day that the realistic part of me; the huge brunt of my being, is totally OK with being done having kids. I am done with the rigmarole of all of it—feedings, changings, the countless sleepless nights—seriously, so over that. The sentimental part though……that part of me just can not wrap her head around never snuffling her own baby’s neck again, never feeling the weight of her sleeping newborn on her chest again. Never feeling a baby kicking her in the ribs. Hub smiled and patted my shoulder and said, “Well, we can hold out hope for an accident……”.

Indeed.

I just can’t believe how fast the time goes. If anyone has any tricks to get it to stop, please, let me know.