It's happened again. Another milestone has passed. And it snuck up on me. Again. I'm getting about tired of this shit.
I have come to the conclusion that I am no longer able to lift up and carry Andrew. He has reached the size and weight that he is no longer pick-up-able by me. Frankly, my husband has a hard time carrying him anywhere, too.
Yet another milestone upon me. And it snuck up even quicker than any others. I was prepared for the teeth falling out. I was prepared for kindergarten. These are things that are inevitably going to happen. Of course, my no longer being able to pick Andrew (and Davis) up is also inevitable. I just never really thought about it. It didn't even cross my mind. I never even thought about it.
Once we were at my mother's for dinner on a Sunday. My brother was there too. My nephew Christopher was walking between the chair and the sliding glass door (where there is also a HUGE fern that my mother has owned since I was easily 3 years old) and he tripped over the branches (is that what ferns have? Stems?) of the fern and fell forward, directly into the corner cabinet. He hit his head. Hard. He was probably 5 at the time? Cheri jumped up and swooped that little man up in her arms faster than a bolt of lightning. It was all one motion - her moving from her seat to the floor to Christopher. It was like she was there waiting for him, almost.
I remember thinking when I saw her do that, damn! How is she able to lift up that little man still? Granted, that little man was a peanut. He ate and ate and ate and couldn't weigh any more than a peanut. But he was still a 5 year old. And it mattered not. She was still able to pick him up like it was nothing. I guess I always assumed that it would be the same for me.
Granted, Andrew hasn't fallen and hurt himself (knock on word, of course) and my adrenaline hasn't kicked in. Maybe then I would still be able to pick him up. But right now, just to carry him up the steps because he's fallen asleep in the car?
Nope. It can't happen. I cannot lift that little lug. And it breaks my heart.
Just like after every other milestone passes. And one day, I wonder if I'll just grow accustomed to it. I doubt it, but I wonder.
These damn kids. Will they ever stop breaking my heart?
I have come to the conclusion that I am no longer able to lift up and carry Andrew. He has reached the size and weight that he is no longer pick-up-able by me. Frankly, my husband has a hard time carrying him anywhere, too.
Yet another milestone upon me. And it snuck up even quicker than any others. I was prepared for the teeth falling out. I was prepared for kindergarten. These are things that are inevitably going to happen. Of course, my no longer being able to pick Andrew (and Davis) up is also inevitable. I just never really thought about it. It didn't even cross my mind. I never even thought about it.
Once we were at my mother's for dinner on a Sunday. My brother was there too. My nephew Christopher was walking between the chair and the sliding glass door (where there is also a HUGE fern that my mother has owned since I was easily 3 years old) and he tripped over the branches (is that what ferns have? Stems?) of the fern and fell forward, directly into the corner cabinet. He hit his head. Hard. He was probably 5 at the time? Cheri jumped up and swooped that little man up in her arms faster than a bolt of lightning. It was all one motion - her moving from her seat to the floor to Christopher. It was like she was there waiting for him, almost.
I remember thinking when I saw her do that, damn! How is she able to lift up that little man still? Granted, that little man was a peanut. He ate and ate and ate and couldn't weigh any more than a peanut. But he was still a 5 year old. And it mattered not. She was still able to pick him up like it was nothing. I guess I always assumed that it would be the same for me.
Granted, Andrew hasn't fallen and hurt himself (knock on word, of course) and my adrenaline hasn't kicked in. Maybe then I would still be able to pick him up. But right now, just to carry him up the steps because he's fallen asleep in the car?
Nope. It can't happen. I cannot lift that little lug. And it breaks my heart.
Just like after every other milestone passes. And one day, I wonder if I'll just grow accustomed to it. I doubt it, but I wonder.
These damn kids. Will they ever stop breaking my heart?