I don't know what's wrong with me lately... but I miss my babies. Sure, Damon and Avery are with me all the time, but they turned into big kids when I wasn't looking.
And, like I mentioned in another post not long ago, I don't want to re-live those baby stages. I survived sleepless nights, diapers, projectile vomiting, bottles, burping, vaccines, teething, car seats, strollers, carrying the huge diaper bag every time I left the house, more sleepless nights, interpreting babbling and recognizing all of the different cries (God, they have so many different cries!), the terrible twos, potty-training... did I mention sleepless nights?!?!
Yeah, so you get the point, I'm sure. I survived all of that... not once, but TWICE even. And I have yet to regret my decision to have my tubes tied when I did. Two babies were plenty! And even though I survived all of that baby stuff listed above, even though they're much more independent now, there are always new challenges with every age, every stage they go through. I am FAR from the finish line, I realize.
Even so, I miss my babies.
What prompted this post? Well, I was organizing my photos today, and came across a folder of pics from 2004. I have no clue why they're still on my hard drive, because I back-up my pics quite frequently and clean out my photo folders. But, anyway, I found these pics from March 2004.
And my heart absolutely ached when I looked at them. I remember that little, 3-year-old boy well... although he's long gone now. As a mom, I've always attempted to enjoy each stage as it came, while it lasted... even though that's really challenging sometimes, because Lord knows they aren't all fun. Still, I knew that time would fly and one day I'd feel the way I do today: like maybe I didn't take quite enough time to enjoy my babies.
Wasn't he sweet?
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